Just You Wait
by Rui
Summary: AU: Van is no Price Charming and Hitomi, a local merchant's daughter, is far from Cinderella. But when Hitomi's father strikes a deal to marry her off...
1. Beginnings

**Chapter 1**

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own these characters because I don't own these characters. I love the creators of both the anime and the manga for creating these characters. I am doing this fiction for entertainment purposes only. Trust me; no one pays for my stories. ;p

* * *

Merle scratched behind her ear in a bored manner as she waited for her friend and lord to return. The guards who accompanied the Prince used to make themselves comfortable inside the castle, but was too often ripped out of bed in the middle of the night because their leader was chomping at the bit to run.

It was a common knowledge that Van would form his opinion of the wife candidate within the time the dinner occurred and never stayed much longer after that. As the second moon rose in the sky, Merle glanced at the guards who were faithfully staring at the steps.

Her ears twitched when she heard the familiar sound of leather shoes making a hasty retreat down the steps. The ebony, wild haired prince took the steps three at a time, loosening his collar as he made a beeline for his traveling party.

As he discarded the jacket and unbuttoned half the buttons of his starched white shirt, the Prince took in a deep breath of air. All the formal dressings usually made him feel as if he were suffocating; being freed from such restraints was always a blessing.

"And what was wrong with this one, hmm?" Merle asked, her ears going flat against her head after Van dug his heels into his horse and sent it trotting up the road, back to Fanelia.

Van didn't utter a word, but Merle was never one to give up easily. She prodded her horse to go a bit faster to be neck and neck with the Royal Pain in the Neck. She pulled back her fist and punched him in the arm, not enough to knock him off his horse, but enough to hurt.

Van's garnet eyes, wide with disbelief, met with the scowling cat girl's green eyes.

Sighing, Van searched his mind for a proper way to describe his latest attempt.

"She was..."

"Wait, let me check off the reasons you've already used." The cat girl sat up straight in her saddle and ticked off every reason with her fingers. "She's too fat, thin, pretty, ugly, old, young, snobby, childish, mature, ignorant, war hungry, loose, prudish..." She tipped her chin down and looked at her fingers, and then whipped her head around to look at her Prince and with a smirk, added "Did I forget anything?"

A small smile graced the man's lips.

"This one was hot-headed, self-centered and completely distracted with the fact she wanted to be a queen to really care how she obtained the title."

"Of course!" Merle hit herself lightly in the forehead. "How could I ever forget that!"

The guards behind them exchanged glances. One sighed while the other looked triumphant.

"Pay up, friend. You lost."

The loser dug in his pockets and plunked a few coins in his partner's waiting hands. Another lost bet on whether the prince would marry _this_ girl or not.

"I'm going to be eternally broke," the loser moaned.

* * *

"This is absurd, Mother, and you very well know it." Hitomi punctuated her sentence by forcefully putting her balled up fists on her hips and cocking her dirty-blonde-haired head to the side.

"Oh, darling, but think about it! How grand it would be!" The silver-blonde haired woman clasped her hands together and got the starry-eyed look in her eyes yet again. Whenever the stars entered the older woman's eyes, Hitomi found out over the years, rocks usually entered her head.

"This is a bit different than dressing up and attending a ball where some guy twice Father's age tries to grope me at the refreshment table and Father strikes a business deal or threatens to tell the guy's wife!" Hitomi, the middle daughter to one of the most well off merchants in her hometown, was used to being a tool for trade but never anything like this!

"Darling, he's desperate," the pretty older lady pouted.

"But I'm not!" she sputtered in response. Her mother's lax attitude in the situation was too insulting to be recognized so Hitomi stuck with what she knew- argue until she got her way or broke something. Of course, Hitomi reflected later, she wasn't sure if her mother meant the prince or her father was desperate.

"My beautiful little girl," Minerva cooed at her child, only to be on the receiving end of a steady, unamused look. "You don't seem to fully grasp what I'm saying."

"Great, now I know where I get it from," Hitomi muttered darkly. As per usual, her mother was unfazed and breezed over her comment.

"Your father is arranging this as we speak."

"_What_!" Hitomi's eyes widen in shock. "Please say you are joking, _please_."

"Of course not! I would not be as cruel as to tempt you with such a tasty little morsel as the Prince in jest?" The lady gave a good laugh as she dropped into one of the overstuffed chairs. "I will be mother-in-law to the King of Fanelia! And you! You will be mother to all the heirs!" The stars increased at the same speed the sick feeling in Hitomi's stomach grew.

The green-eyed girl shook her head in disbelief.

"The grand council won't ever agree," she muttered, more to herself as a slight encouragement than to her mother.

"Oh, precious! Of course they will! You know your father; he could talk a neko out of its tail!"

The sick feeling increased as Hitomi sent a silent prayer to whatever deity was currently laughing his or her arse off at her.

_I can't marry Prince Van! I can't!_

* * *

"As you well know, I have excellent standing with every country surrounding Fanelia and would even be able to aid in the economic growth of my dearly beloved country." The man was a pro at peddling, whether it was a sock with no partner and a hole in the bottom or his daughter. He knew the cards to play and the council would commend him should they realized that he, also, carefully choose a time when the young prince would be out of the country.

There was a mutter across the board and the man grew impatient. He hadn't wanted to strike sore spots, but it seemed it was going to be the only thing that worked.

"Royals will talk to royals as easy as merchants will talk to merchants." He beamed in his friendly way. "If Dryden knows Prince Van married a merchant's daughter, I'm sure he will be more than willing to tell his _wife, _Princess Millerna, of this account, thus strengthening ties with Asturia."

"Also, if the prince comes home without a princess, his inauguration in three weeks will be-unstable," remarked one of the men.

One of the older members of the council scoffed, "Why ever for? He is a beloved man among many."

"Yes, but the country would like, I'm certain, to know their king was a morally upstanding man. It is a scandal in many royal homes to have mistresses without being married or with being married as the case might be. Such a scenario might cause the people to become—uneasy?"

There was no question in the man's voice and his face stayed a wistful, yet concerned expression. He wanted badly to smirk, but forced his facial muscles to obey.

This statement caused a slightly louder rumble from the council.

"And of course, with a wife, there will be a strong chance of an heir within a few years."

This made the men nod and affirm that an heir was definitely going to be needed and soon to put everyone's mind at ease. A prince or princess always meant stability.

"You have brought up very valid points, Mr. Kanzaki, but the girl. We do not wish to force the prince into an undesirable match."

"You want to know if she if pretty?" He let out a warm laugh. "Indeed, she gets praised often about her unique beauty."

"Is she tolerable? What about her age? Educated?"

The father's chest puffed up.

"Of course she is educated! I would not allow any child of mine to walk around without knowing how to read or to carry on an intellectual conversation!" Or, the man thought privately, to prove a hindrance in marrying off. "As for her age she is but a year younger than the fair Prince and she is quite tolerable. She is a favorite among our social circle and is always content with little."

The council spoke among themselves, their voices hushed so Kanzaki could never hear them clearly, only a word or two and often nothing that made sense. The man disliked being patient; in fact most of his deals had to be struck within minutes but this, he reasoned, was a very special occasion and one worth waiting to hear about.

After an eternity, the head member turned to the merchant and with a slightly amused air gave the council's answer.

"Bring your daughter, Hitomi, was it? Here within the week. It would seem we have a wedding to plan."


	2. Noodle Nose

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Van's eyes felt as if they were about to pop out of their given place as his jaw tightened in an attempt to prevent his mouth hanging open. Merle, on the other hand, was already leaping forward, grabbing the elder by his collar and shouting rather rudely and loudly in his face.

"What do ya mean you've chosen Lord Van's future wife!" The gray haired man's eyes grew large and his body trembled with fear as the neko spat and hissed on about the injustice of it all.

While the one messenger was preoccupied, another one touched his lord on the shoulder. Van turned, his wide eyes feeling permanently fixed in the enlarged state.

"You must understand this situation from our point of view, your highness." The man was one of the most respected and wise on the council. "You have had a year and more to find a suitable wife and have always come back without a solid reason or a future bride. The people need reassurance, we need reassurance that the crown will not be given away from your family."

Van slowly nodded, knowing he would be up all night gnawing over this new and quite alarming conversation. In the meantime, he decided to preoccupy himself with disconnected Merle from the whimpering man she was shaking around violently.

* * *

"Consider it this way instead, because he most likely will not see you till it's too late to retract the offer of marriage posed by the Grand Fanelia Council and myself, he cannot disapprove, therefore there is nothing left for him to do but approve!"

Hitomi shook her head and muttered under her breath. It would figure, since her older sister was still being married to every eligible man over seventy and her younger sister had run off a few years ago to marry some pauper boy, Hitomi was the last one around to raise the family fortune. In truth, she would have rather raised her family's IQ.

She never meant to think poorly of her kin, but this was just unbelievable. It also proved that her family spoke only one language, the language of money.

"My baby sister is going to be all grown up and married to a King!" her oldest sister, Leiko, piped up. She was only twenty five and was already on her fourth engagement. "It's much better to be married to someone who can keep your wardrobe up than keeps you up to your elbows in work!"

Their mother and Leiko shared the same laugh, but Hitomi remained annoyed.

"It's not fair to me!" she complained, knowing that it was fruitless but refusing to give in so soon. "If I was a male, you wouldn't have done this!"

"If you were a boy, I certainly would not!" her Father bellowed. "Of course, it would be even more money handed over to me if the men who try to touch you found out you were a boy instead!"

Hitomi rolled her eyes, climbed out of the chair she had dropped in and stalked out of the room.

"I don't see why she's in such a huff," Leiko pointed out. "I've seen this king.  
He is nothing short of a dream. She should be happy that at least he still has his own teeth!"

* * *

"I can't believe this!" Merle screeched for what seemed like the twentieth time that hour. "Why can't you get a say in this?"

"Because-" Van sighed, knowing he'd have to repeat this explanation over and over again until the neko chose to understand it. He also knew he'd probably be celebrating his golden anniversary before she accepted it. "The council decided and they said I took too long."

"You can't expect to like some pompous spoiled princess on command!"

"She's not a princess," came the gruff voice of the oldest maid in the palace.  
Van and Merle both stood wide-eyed as the maid bustled around, turning down the Prince's bed in anticipation for him sleeping there soon.

"Not a princess? That's worse!" Merle moaned, flinging an arm over her eyes and staggering backward into a chair. "That's like them saying you aren't even worth another royal, Lord Van!"

"Then who is she, Rai?" Van inquired eagerly.

The old woman turned around, her thick arms crossed across her chest. "A daughter of a respectable merchant."

"The guy sold his own daughter?" Van asked incredulously.

"Basically. Served her up on a silver platter and fed the council spoonfuls of horse manure until they saw it his way." Rai nodded her head.

"Do you know what she looks like?"

"Men! Always concerned on the physical!"

Van's face did a lovely turn from tan to bright red. "Th-that's not what I meant!"

"Sure, sure." Rai waved him off. "I don't know what she looks like, or age, or name, or anything and neither does the council."

The adopted siblings' jaws swung open in unison.

"I'm going to be married to someone, whom we can only hope is female, and the council didn't even investigate to see what she was like?"

"You have to consider, Lord Van," Merle chirped up, "you'd have shot her down if you knew anything about her."

"I thought you were on my side," Van muttered glumly. His fate was sealed,  
announcements of his coronation and the wedding had already made it to the far stretches of his kingdom and within the week he was sure that the entire world would know.

* * *

"Would you look at what a fair room this is, Hitomi!" Her mother swooned upon entering the large bedroom that Hitomi, future bride of Van Fanel and current title holder of Miss Misery, would use for the week before the wedding. The time had flown by as Hitomi found out that tailors were more picky than a child,  
threw bigger temper tantrums and had repeatedly called her fat.

Needless to say, a blushing bride to be Hiotmi was not. On several occasions she had purposefully missed appointments or left the shop door open so that random animals could find their way into the shop and create enough of a distraction to allow her to slip out the side door.

"Its fine," the girl muttered.

"And you get to meet with the Prince for dinner!" her sister crowed, plopping down on the bed. "And think of all the eligible and rich men that'll be falling all over me once I say that I am the Queen's sister." The dreamy look got into Leiko's eyes and Hitomi wanted nothing more than to run into a wall, break her nose and bleed to death.

"We must prepare you for your first meeting with the Prince!" Her mother flew into action, producing curlers, dresses, make-up and other things which were meant to make the bride-to-be stunning. Glancing at the clock on the wall Hitomi patiently pointed out that it was only five minutes after noon but that didn't faze her relatives.

Hours past, and the two women got into a bitter argument about attraction.

"More cleavage!" the sister demanded, yanking the front of Hitomi's dress lower.  
The victim squeaked in protest and tried, in vain, to pull the dress back up to it's proper place.

"No, no, no," Mother cried, yanking the dress up. "More legs!"

"Chest!"

"Leg!"

"Chest!"

"Shut-up!" Hitomi snapped. Both of the older women turned, their eyes large with disbelief at the more patient one's outburst. "If I am to be married to this guy, then he'll see both eventually whether I like it or not so I'd rather not give free advertisement to any other male in the castle!"

Her mother recovered from the outburst first. "Hitomi-we are just looking out for your best interest." The dirty-blonde-haired girl grabbed each of the other women by an arm and hauled them to the door.

"If that was true," she roughly shoved them out the door, "I wouldn't be here"  
With that, she slammed the door shut. There was a mild protest, but the sharp clicks of their heels were heard and she let out a breath.

There were only a few minutes before she would meet the man who would be her husband and she wasn't too pleased. True, she looked marvelous, but Hitomi decided that she didn't want to look marvelous. She wanted to look like her normal, middle-class-feeling self.

Ripping the pins out of her hair, she decided to do just that.

* * *

She stood in the doorway of the largest room she had ever seen and it was just the dining room! When these royals really meant to make the lesser man feel like less, they did it in style.

Leiko and their mother rediscovered Hitomi and her new state of 'self' and Leiko had to catch their mother from falling on the floor in a dead faint.

"You simply can't go looking like that!" her mother cried. "He'll think he's going to be marrying a beggar!"

Leiko walked around the girl and nodded. "Shows chest and legs. Nice pick." That dried her mother's tears and almost got Hitomi to start crying. She had chosen one of her shorter dresses, true, but it was also one of her more cheap dresses and the stitching proved that.

Feeling the need to give last minute instructions, the two women went over a thousand different polite things to do and some-questionable tactics to 'land'  
the Prince.

"I thought it was a signed and sealed deal," Hitomi pointed out just to be ignored.

"And above all," her mother and older sister said in unison, "do not talk." The girl opened her mouth, but was rudely shoved through the opened doors and had them slammed shut behind her.

Hitomi gave a nasty glare to the wooden doors and whipped her head around,  
seeking another escape only to see a dark haired male staring out of the enormous windows that covered an entire wall of the room. Briefly, she wondered if this was a butler or a soldier who decided to play hooky and hide in the dinning room, but when the person turned around to face her, the royal crest seemed to flicker in the sunset light.

"Are you Lady Hitomi?" came a smooth, cool voice. She wasn't technically a lady,  
they just lied and said she was in order to appease any of the other royals around the kingdom. She nodded and he drew closer, but not before letting out a sigh.

Don't forget, Hitomi, she mentally warned herself. This isn't going to be a knight in shinning armor. More like a spoiled brat in a rusty can. The thought made a smile perk her lips up.

He bowed and gave a simple greeting of, "So happy you could come."

She gave the automatic reply, "So happy to be here." Lie! She hissed in her mind.

When she regained her stiff back composure from the small curtsey she did, their eyes met and quickly darted away from one another. Hitomi rolled her eyes as Van thought of several things he'd rather be doing and many of them regarding tormenting the Council members.

"My liege!" a butler bubbled as he walked into the room. "My lady!" he continued. "Please be seated, dinner will be served. Though, your highness, I was to convey the high council's deepest apology that they will be a few minutes late."

The butler bowed and the images filling Van's head became more violent. They were trying to get him and this-girl to play nice. Sometimes they were as transparent as glass and as thick as brick in the head.

"Very well, shall we start without them?" he suggested. Hitomi marched past him,  
pulled out her own chair and sat down in it with a thump.

The butler and Van blinked in surprise at such a rough nature to who was suppose to be a highly sophisticated girl. Biting a comment back, Van begrudgingly sat at the head of the table, his current guest was seated to his right. That is where, Van thought with a small storm cloud forming, she would be sitting for the rest of her natural life.

"So, Hitomi." Thank the gods for Merle's meddling. She was able to climb down the wall and slip onto the guest balcony to learn the girl's name so that Van wouldn't make himself look any worse than need be. How disgraceful would it be not to know one's own fiancée's name? "What is your father's occupation?"

Safe topics, she thought. At least he wasn't asking if she able to bear children or something as embarrassing as all that. "He's a merchant."

"In what?" Van prodded, his breeding trying desperately to make him act as a good host would.

"Anything that is worth anything," she answered flippantly. "Pots, pans, jewels,  
the normal things people are interested in. He is very successful at his job."

"Obviously," Van commented under his breath, but because of the silence and their proximity, Hitomi heard his snide comment and gave him a firm glare. The bubbly butler came into the room and placed two bowls of hot soup before them and quickly scurried away.

"I beg your pardon?" The honey-blonde girl asked in a pseudo sweet voice. Van,  
having been around one too many princesses, recognized that tone. It was a warning to choose his words wisely.

"I'm sorry? Is there something wrong?"

"Yes, you said something after I answered you about my Father. What was it? Or are you prone to insulting young ladies in your presence?"

"I was simply saying that I didn't realize that peddling brides was a legal occupation." Van replied, his pride slightly hurt by her words.

Hitomi's eyes put the candles the servants were lighting to shame. "I was wrong. You don't insult ladies in your presence-but with your presence."

Van's neutral face soured as he quickly jumped on his feet. Hitomi followed suit and the distance between them became null as they glared at one another, mere inches away from the other one.

It was then that the council made their grand entrance. They chuckled when they noticed the two, as they dubbed them 'love-birds', flush faced and close to one another.

"It seems you are pleased with our choice, your highness!" the eldest member cooed. Van's eyebrow twitched as he sat, hard, back in his chair. Hitomi, again,followed his example but where Van began to eat, she pushed the food away, crossed her arms and refused to acknowledge anyone in the room.

"Oh my, she must be in love! Already loosing her appetite!" another member crowed as the butler brought the other servants in to lay the vast meal on the long table.

Upon hearing this comment, the upset girl nudged the food aside and grabbed her bowl and with amazing speed, slurped her soup down. When she was sure she had gotten the last of it, she slammed the bowl down and glared at the man who had made the assumption.

Van raised an eyebrow and with a cool indifference, leaned over to her and pointed out, "You have a noodle on your nose."


	3. Fancy

**Chapter 3**

* * *

"Lady Hitomi, I would like to introduce you to your shadow." Hitomi's blond eyebrow rose at that introduction. One of the council members had bumped into her in the courtyard and from there had whisked her away to a more private part of the palace.

"This is Armand, he will be the one who will be providing for your—physical appearance and also instruct you on the way you are to behave when Prince Van is crowned in a week."

Her blonde eyebrow twitched but neither man seemed to notice. Armand bent in half, showing his deep respect or tying his bootlaces, the girl wasn't sure, but when he popped back up he grabbed her hand and kissed it. "My pleasure, future Queen."

The council member was content to explain that Armand was the best in the business at turning nickels into gold pieces. Hitomi raised an eyebrow at his back as the member quickly, and quite jolly, nearly danced away.

When she gave her attention back to Armand, his pleasant brown-nosing smile had completely gone. Instead of the cheerful look, he wore a disapproving grimace as his eyebrows were making a point in the middle of his forehead. "Now, lady, we may work."

"I—beg your pardon?" Hitomi questioned.

"You see, I can list three things that are wrong with you at this very moment." Hitomi's defense went to the sky. She opened her mouth to protest his rude behavior but found it impossible when one of Armand's fingers, placed under her chin, snapped it up. "Four."

"One. You are dressed like a peasant. Not even a fashionable peasant. This whole summer dress has got to be a thing of your past."

"It's hot. It works."

"Imagine you on the balcony smiling down at the people who you now rule over and a good breeze comes and everyone can see Prince Van's honeymoon night!" Hitomi's cheeks turned a lovely sunset red. Armand nodded his chestnut, curly hair covered head and sighed while he gave the blushing female another one over. "So we need to get you fitted for heavy, long dresses. Something that will make you look pretty and powerful at the same time. A true tailor's nightmare."

"How _dare_ you—"

"Tsk, tsk. You didn't let me finish. Number two is that you are walking aimlessly around. This is a big no-no. You can not stroll without a purpose and number three, consequently, is that you can go no where in public without a knight or the king. People want to know their queen is important and not just a frump lying around a palace." Hitomi could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand erect from her sheer annoyance. Though her temper was not fast nor was it cruel, being torn apart by a pretty boy was the last thing she wanted to happen at this moment.

"I will _not_ take orders from the likes of you," Hitomi hissed dangerously.

"_Good_!" Armand's mood swung back to his more giddy self. "You already have that holier-than-thou attitude but I must say that after seeing your back water ways, I _will_ tell you what to do and if you want to be a queen instead of just a baby-making factory alone, you _will_ obey me."

Her fingers wound up tightly into a ball as the man walked back and forth spewing his gibberish and repeating about how important it was for her to respect him. Just as her fists itched to hit something, she turned on her heels and walked away. Armand was in hot pursuit.

"Lady!" the fancy man screamed as she quickly picked up the pace. When she still couldn't rid herself of him she broke into a run. It took little time for her to sprint the courtyard, past the confused people and up the two flights of stairs. She waited patiently for Armand's face to appear at the bottom of the stair well.

"Looks like my back water ways, like knowing how to properly run, are still better than your pampered prissish ways in any race." She was smug, oh yes, but the red faced man, she was sure, cursed under his breath as he attempted to crawl up the stairs. Hitomi made it back to her room safely and locked the door. Her mother and sister were the first to think she needed to be re-done and now this man that the Grand Council had hired to make her seem like someone else because just being _her_ wasn't fashionable enough.

The dirty-blonde shook her head. It wasn't going to happen. Absolutely not. She refused to become just another airhead.

* * *

"During your coronation you will remain on one knee before the high priest until he announces your full title and then—" Van sighed. He knew the procedures like the back of his sword. He wasn't overly eager to be King because of the extra duties and stricter regulations placed upon him, but he had heard about this ceremony since he could sit up straight in a chair.

Just when Van had gotten to counting the number of times the instructor said 'king' for entertainment, a messenger burst through the doors and breathlessly waited for permission to speak. The instructor sputtered with insult because of his interrupted lesson, but Van was glad that some higher being rescued him.

"Go ahead," the Prince instructed.

"There-is-a knight from Asturia." The boy, a few years younger than Van, stood up. "He is one of high ranking!"

The gray-haired instructor sneered at the boy. "And how do you know this? You interrupted our highness' important lessons to report that a lowly knight has come to the gates?"

"No sir." The boy recovered, his eyes fixing on the raven haired heir. "He is so important because he is escorting the Princess of Asturia, Millerna."

"Why didn't you say that _before_!" The man ran from the room, rambling a hundred different things that had to be done in order to get the palace presentable.

"Where are they?" Van asked, having gotten to his feet just as quickly as his teacher.

"They have just arrived on the flying ship. They have yet to dock, your highness." The boy's eyes quivered with excitement.

"Did they say why they've come?"

"To meet the future Queen of Fanelia," the messenger said proudly. "And to witness the crowing and marriage ceremonies."

"Oh gods…" Van muttered, dropping down in his chair in defeat. Why did they want to meet her? Witnessing the ceremonies was fine, wanting to actually speak to the headstrong merchant's daughter was another fiasco all its own and, Van accused mentally, a disaster waiting to happen. Catching himself as the young boy tipped his head and blinked curiously at his to-be King, Van collected himself. "Very well. Tell them they are more than welcomed. I will receive them in the throne room."

The boy nodded and sprinted out the door.

Now came the hard part, Van thought, trying to get _that girl_ to cooperate.

* * *

It had been two days since the introduction of Armand and Hitomi could not have been more miserable. The brunette proved to be a true try in her patience as he groomed, gloated and grossed about almost everything in the world and mainly about her. She was too thin, too bony, too muscular and the list went on. He even had the nerve to compare her to an old work mule that his father had once had.

She had gotten in the practice of dashing off whenever he would come near but by the first night, she found him smirking and cross-legged on her bed. Apparently he had tattled on her running off adventures to some members of the council who, in turn, gave him a key to her bedroom.

"Isn't it improper to enter a woman's bedroom?" Hitomi had tried to attack him with his own expertise but the man gave her a pointedly flat stare and shot back a comment of his own.

"Don't worry, _milady_, I am not physically attracted to you." He gave a light snort. "I mean, I like my women to actually resembled women, not young boys in a skirt."

Even now those cruel words rung in her ears. Now the fancy man had the audacity to nearly break the door down while she was bathing to tell her to meet him outside in the main part of her bedroom immediately. Hitomi was about to protest until Armand gave her _that_ look and she loathingly obeyed.

"What is so important that you have to come charging into my bath like a cannibal after his supper?"

"Oh please, honey, there isn't enough meat on you to make a finger sandwich much less a meal."

She glared at him and gripped the towel tighter around her body. "What is it?"

"You have to shine like a star in about twenty minutes. Two people have come to see you." Armand was ripping through the wardrobe with fierce determination, discarding clothes and throwing shoes over his shoulder. "Don't you have anything here that is remotely attractive?"

"I go for comfort and practicality not attractiveness," the towel girl pointed out happily, feeling an ounce of triumph at her advisor's exasperated expression. Finally he dubbed one of her dresses okay enough to put on and before the girl could shoo him from the room he ripped the towel from her body and shoved the dress in her arms. "What are you doing?"

"Getting you dressed. This isn't a time for modesty!" The man made quick work of her dress and before Hitomi could form a single coherent sentence of objection in her mind, Armand had her dressed, hair down and half way down the hall.

"Remember that you are to represent his lordship with your utmost grace." Armand's voice was firm. "It's important that we look good in the Princess' eyes. You represent Van now, so I know this is a lot to ask, but would you please try not to say too much and act like you have at least an inch of femininity in you."

"What should I care if I make Prince Van look bad?" _That_ was the number one wrong thing to say as Armand came to a dead stop, causing the girl to run into his back. Rubbing her nose, which had met his right shoulder blade, she peeked through one open eyelid at him.

His eyes were almost on fire with the amount of wrath he was feeling. "I don't care about you or what you think you have a right to do. You might not like Prince Van but plenty of people do. You aren't doing anything for _him_, none of us work for _him_, and so much as we work for the kingdom. If you make _him_ look bad, you make everyone, ev-er-y-one look bad in Fanelia." With a jerk, they started their journey to one of the smaller halls leading from the sleeping quarters part of the palace to the throne room.

Van stood, waiting, for Hitomi to come as he had been told to do. He was dressed in the red jacket and black pants that symbolized Fanelia's royal colors along with the gold seal of the kingdom. Having never seen him in anything else, Hitomi wondered if he owned any other clothes.

"You are late," Van pointed out as Armand bowed low and presented Hitomi to his highness.

"So sorry your majesty." There wasn't a drip of sincerity in her words and Armand laughed nervously. Van offered his arm and she hooked hers through his. "But Armand was too busy striping me for me to notice the time." Armand's laugh stopped cold as Van's eyebrow rose. Before anything else could be said, the doors open and Van started forward, with a light nudge, Hitomi followed him.

"His Royal Highness, Prince Van Fanel of Fanelia and Lady Hitomi." The announcement sounded strange in Hitomi's ears but she didn't have the luxury of trying to adjust to it. Van and Hitomi met with the two tall blondes who greeted them with smiles and the proper fashion.

"I'm so pleased to finally meet you, Prince Van." The tall female spoke with a smile. "I am Princess Millerna of Asturia and this is my personal escort, Sir Allen."

The two men bowed before each other and the conversation kept a stiff formal note to it as they stood there chatting. Hitomi, who was mainly left out of the conversation, kept her arm locked with Van's and slipped into a dazed state. Of course that is when someone must have directed a question towards her because when she became painfully aware someone was watching her, she noticed that three people were watching her intently.

"Are you feeling well?" The princess asked in a concerned tone. "You seem distant."

"Oh," Hitomi's mind raced for a thousand excuses but could only give a tiny nervous laugh.

"You'll have to forgive my Lady Hitomi; she has been exhausted making preparations for the wedding." Van swooped in like a knight with a shining vocabulary to save her from making a complete fool of herself. The smile the princess gave the couple spoke volumes of understanding. "I'm sure you would like to rest before dinner, I've had rooms prepared for you—Enki will show you to them."

It took a few more minutes but eventually, Van led Hitomi out of the room. She was about to ask how he could seem so calm under that boring pressure when he dropped her arm as he pulled on the tie and first button of his shirt.

"That's not very professional," Hitomi pointed out as he successfully untied the restricting fabric from his neck and got the first two buttons of his shirt undone. His garnet eyes flashed as he looked at her.

"Neither is drifting off into the clouds during an introduction."

"It was boring, I couldn't help it."

"You'll have to learn to 'help it'," Van reprimanded. "Although she handled it well, there are many others who don't have a sense of humor." With that, he turned and walked off.

* * *

"I don't want to go to dinner. Tell them I'm sick," Hitomi suggested. The maid and Armand both frowned at that.

"If you say you're sick, they might think it is the food and then accuse us of trying to kill them and take over their lands."

"That's insane. No one would think that."

"A war hungry general would. And then Fanelia would be crushed and it'd be all your fault, Armand pointed out and then sighed dramatically. "You would single-handedly take down a kingdom and one you are trying to become Queen of. Imagine what the history scrolls will say."

Hitomi glared at him as the old maid hit him on the arm. "My lady, it will cause Lord Van to look bad if his own intended isn't at the dinner."

The blonde studied her hands. She didn't like the Prince because she was the reason she had to get married to him, but it wasn't really his fault that her father was a money hungry hog. He was mean to her, but she easily and eagerly returned the treatment. It was painfully obvious that she embarrassed him this afternoon, who said it was impossible to do it again?

"I won't." Hitomi stated with less conviction than before. "I can't."

"You have to smile and be nice,"Armand instructed clearly. "And then I promise you can go back to chewing your toenails with your teeth or whatever savage girls like you do." He waved a hand as if brushing her off.

"I am _not_ a savage and I certainly to _not_ chew my toenails," Hitomi battled back.

"Then prove me wrong and actually attend the dinner." He was cornering her into going.

Sticking her nose in the air, she turned to the side. "No."

"Why you little—!"

"_Out_, Armand," the old maid instructed.

"But I have to get her to the dinner on time or I'll—"

"_Now!_" Armand sprinted to the door and slammed it shut.

"I've been trying to get him to do that for a few days," Hitomi said, amazed.

"You have to be over fifty to wield power like that over the young men." The maid scooped up the dress Armand had brought in for her to change into. It was red with gold embroidery—Fanelia's colors. "Now missy, time for you to get dressed." There was no fighting with a woman who could make Hitomi's arch-nemesis run for the door. The girl begrudgingly slipped into the dress and allowed the maid to fix her hair and make-up.

When it was done, the woman nodded her approval, "Very well, you look very well. Do Fanelia proud."

Sighing, Hitomi could barely breathe in the corset that was wrapped like a vice around her rib cage. Saying a little prayer, the blonde opened the door and stepped into the hall.


	4. Dinner

**Chapter 4**

* * *

She slammed her door shut and with large eyes. Placing a hand over her racing she heart, Hitomi did her best to try to calm it down.

Of all the possible and impossible scenarios she could have ever dreamed up in her years, this dinner would still have been unexpected. Nothing, absolutely not a thing, could have prepared her for what happened. Hitomi wasn't sure if she was going to cry or laugh. Cry because she had embarrassed herself beyond all belief or just laugh because of the obscurity of it all.

A knock at her door sent the girl into another full blown panic. "W-who is it?"

"Armand." The voice didn't bring comfort and her blood pressure shot through the roof. No doubt he had heard about the disastrous dinner. Desperately, the frantic girl searched around her room for some excuse or exit. "I know you're in there, Lady Hitomi, I can here you wheezing."

Too distracted with trying to get an escape route, she let the insult slide off her shoulders. There was the balcony, but the girl knew that she was at least three floors up so it would be impossible to escape through there. But, she re-thought, it might stall Armand from chewing her from head to her now bare feet. The jingle of keys and curses made the would-be Queen bolt to her balcony.

* * *

Van had never witnessed someone eating so slowly in his life. His to-be was slowly spooning out her soup and only managed to get three spoonfuls into her mouth before the butler whisked the first course away to bring the next.

Having been forced into her company at every dinner, he was sure that she could swallow a cow and cough up the bones with little problem and _now_ she had a bird stomach? He thought it was strange but nothing compared with the dinner that had been held tonight.

His guests were as pleasant and friendly as anyone would expect a member of the royal family and royal guard to be. Hitomi, for the most part, slowly ate. They were only a few minutes into the second course when a large rumbling was heard. Thinking it danger, Van itched to jump up but didn't want to alarm the others if it was just a phobia of his.

The rumbling became higher pitched and it was soon revealed to be the chattering sound of females. He looked at his fiancée who was frozen in place, her green eyes large with shock. Millerna had cocked her head to the side as Allen raised an eyebrow.

A few seconds and _bam_ the doors to the formal dinning hall were thrown open to reveal two women, one obviously older than the second and both looking quite happy.

"Here you are, dear!" the eldest one squealed in delight. Hitomi turned around, slowly, in her chair with a twitching smile on her face.

"M-mother!"

"Isn't this lovely!" she crowed. "A get together among friends and family. You don't mind if we stay, do you, your majesties?" Hitomi's mother gave an odd laugh before seating herself right by Allen, the other one who was revealed to be Hitomi's older sister, Leiko, sat next to Hitomi.

"I-I'm afraid we haven't had the pleasure of meeting." Princess Millerna was the first to recover.

"Sorry, honey, I'm Minerva Kanzaki and this is my daughter Leiko."

The blond smiled at them both and gave her ever formal smile and 'how-do-you-dos'. Allen did the same, though he was able to shake the shock off more easily than Van or Hitomi.

"Why, darling, you look pale! Are they feeding you well here?" Minerva's eyes snapped to Van's as she sent him silent daggers. "You are feeding her well aren't you?"

"Of course, ma'am." Van shook the feeling that he was using the term loosely.

A brilliant smile took over her face. "Good! Then she will be a fat and happy wife!" Hitomi's complexion recovered from its paleness only to plunge into a deep red.

"M-mother! I thought you had gone back home!"

"Nonsense child! With so many fine young men coming to the ceremonies, Leiko could not afford to be absent, isn't that right precious?" The older sister beamed with a smile much like her mother's. Van coughed lightly to distract the conversation from where it might lead. Hitomi's character, he was sad to think, was in question. Was she just after the money? But that was ridiculous, wasn't it?

"Where are you staying?" Van couldn't think of a less painful, but blunt way of putting the question. From the three minutes they had spent together, he was sure he'd get real good at hiding in his palace.

"In a little hotel just outside the gates," Leiko answered and gave him the 'come-hither' eyes. Hitomi had been stock still through most of the fiasco and when she noticed her sister's attempts at capturing Van's attention, one could almost swear that they could see when she started to want to run from the room.

When the butlers came in, now carrying two extra plates for the unexpected guests, Leiko and Minerva didn't stop. Their table manners were acceptable but the conversation topics had Van with his mouth open most of the conversation with nothing going in or out. And then, he shook his head in disbelief of this memory, came the book.

"Since you are to be her husband, and you, your majesty, are sure to be her new best friend, I guess its okay to show this." From Hitomi's petrified look, Van only guessed that her doom was impending. "Wasn't she such a precious baby!" Minerva cooed, quickly getting up from her chair and running to Van's side to show him a rather odd baby picture of, who he guessed, was Hitomi. The sketch was nicely done but the poor kid had not a stitch of clothing on and had a rather nasty trail of nose drippings.

His stomach clenched, he was somewhere between horribly amused, disgusted and sympathetic but the neutral mask never moved off his face.

"Mother!" Hitomi jumped to her feet and lunged into an attempt to grab the cursed book from the older woman who danced out of the way. Unable to regain her balance, the force of her lunge at her mother carried her past her now moved intended target and straight into Van.

Before impact Van could see the terror on Hitomi's face, after the impact all he could do was let an 'oomph' out as the girl's momentum caused his chair to go on two legs, but no further as it slammed down again on the floor.

Hitomi let out a whimper as she mentioned that the chair was on her foot, Van jumped up, knocking the book from Minerva's hands. The troublesome sketch book hit the tip of his plate and catapulted his food towards his guests, covering them in meat and sauce.

The Princess squeaked in surprise and jumped to her feet quickly. Van lifted the chair and Hitomi's injured foot slipped out from underneath it. Leiko, during the fiasco, had gotten up and attempted to aid Sir Allen in getting the dinner off of him, among other things, as he tried to fight away her hands. Millerna was successful at only getting the pieces off her rather expensive looking dress but the sauce had soaked through. Minerva had began to laugh nervously as she backed away from the table and into the butler carrying water to the table, she was able not only to remove herself from danger, but also trip the butler who let the pitcher fling its contents over Van and Hitomi.

The entire room went silent.

"This will make a wonderful story for future children, no?" Leiko attempted, only to be glared at by her mother. Hitomi recovered first after her sister, and in a rushed tumbling of words she apologized several times while she ran out of the room.

The guests looked at one another and then to Van who was busily telling the butlers to show the invaders out. He wouldn't have been surprised if Asturia declared war right then and there, but instead of a high pitched voice ringing out in annoyance, a soft laugh was heard.

Van's eyebrows rose again and higher when Millerna's laugh grew in volume. Perhaps the sauce was laced with some type of drug?

"She is quite the girl," the Princess managed to gasp out as she calmly sat back down, intent of finishing dinner. Taking her lead, both baffled males sat down. The rest of the dinner had been rather uneventful after the grand opening act. Afterward, the Princess insisted that the dress would be taken care of and like new in no time and there were no hard feelings. She felt that there was no need to make a fuss about such a small thing.

Allen had asked him to practice his swordsmanship with him having, also, been a student of Balgus. Van readily accepted, anything was better than thinking about what a joke dinner had been. And to think, those women were to be associated with the royal family of Fanelia.

"Lord Van," Merle broke his thoughts with her voice. "Why didn't you put up more of a fight when they picked her?"

Van sighed, he knew why. The Grand Council would _have_ to listen to him if he told them 'no' and he really wanted to. But the one thing a council member had humbly pointed out was that he had attempted to find a hand to hold with every local daughter of a duke, king, lord or lady. When the time came, most likely none would have him if he had previously slighted them.

Van blew out a huff of air. It wasn't his fault they had—issues that were so blatantly obvious any man in his right mind would be fearful of the girls. He had watched at least three nearly behead a servant for dropping something near their gown or bumping their chair or something else as trivial. At least this girl that he was going to have to marry seemed to be able to tolerate more. This evening proved it.

The Prince shuttered at the fact that her colorful family was soon to be his in-laws.

"Lord Van?" Merle prodded.

"I don't have a choice."

The neko reeled backward at his statement. "Didn't have a _choice_?" She took a deep breath before letting all her thoughts out, per usual. "You are the one who pays them and they get to rule your life? If I was a princess and they tried to marry me off to some woodsy, gold digging, peasant person I would tell them where they could go lick themselves!" She crossed her fur covered arms, her eyebrows crashing together. "You are in charge, tell them you don't wanna."

"I can't. It's not that simple, Merle." Van removed his shirt and dug around in his wardrobe till he found one of his favorite shirts. Slipping it on, he turned to face the feline female that was busting at the seams in irritation or anger, perhaps both. Maybe it was just gas. "I can't say 'no'. I'm doing what's best for Fanelia as I'm sure _she_ is."

The little cat nose went straight in the air. "She's doing what's best for her pocket book! And you should do what is best for _you_ since you have to be stuck with the girl."

"Perhaps, but either way." The prince shrugged as he opened his bedroom door and grabbed his sword. "I'll be back later."

Merle gave a rather discontented grunt when the door shut.

* * *

Hitomi wanted to die. Maybe it would be better than having to face Van or Millerna or Allen. Her insane family was banned from the castle until the wedding for obvious reasons although they weren't told as bluntly as that. To escape from Armand's going on and on about the lack of civility in her family and how it must have been passed down to her, she ran to the gardens.

She picked at the flowers and nearly had her heart stop when a gardener came out of no where to fuss at her for ruining his beautiful creation. She apologized and put the flower down and made a quick get away. Nothing seemed to be going right. Hitmoi was truly from a different world than Van and his odd servants were.

"Milady?" Turning, Hitomi came face to face with Allen. "Why are you out here by yourself?"

"Because it's safer for everyone else." She pouted, turning away from him. "And Armand has horrible allergies, so this will be the last place he'll be willing to look."

"Actually, he kindly requested me to find you." She felt her shoulders square up. Of course that pretty boy would send out the blood hounds for her. He wasn't going to let her out of his snide little claws that easily.

"Please don't make me go back, _please_," Hitomi begged and received a kind smile in return. A smile, how much she had missed seeing that on people's faces!

"Very well, but I'll have to insist on my coming with you. Wouldn't want anything to happen to you; Prince Van would never forgive me."

She rolled her eyes, but decided to allow him to tag along. Honestly there was no way she could stop him from coming and it would be one less thing for Armand to get on to her about in the future.

"How much did I embarrass Fanelia last night?" The question had been burning in her mind and with a hung head and heavy heart, she just had to know.

"I'm not sure. I'm not of Fanelia and don't know what the customs are. Perhaps that was some welcoming ritual you people do here." Allen tried to make a joke but it was completely lost on Hitomi who only sunk lower into her pity pool. Noticing this, the knight tried a new path. "The Princess Millerna thoroughly enjoyed the dinner."

Hitomi's head snapped up. "How?"

"Coming from a royal house, you have to understand, doesn't allow for such antics to occur. Though I'm sure Prince Van would have liked the entire incident never to have happened, it is amusing that it did." Allen gave her a warm smile and Hitomi reflected the gesture. "So you haven't caused any negative opinions."

_Maybe not to the Princess, but the Prince is another matter I'm sure._


	5. I Do But In a Minute

**Chapter 5**

* * *

"Stop fidgeting or I'll never get this on straight!" The maid huffed.

Van continued to finger his cape, helmet, and anything else within reach. In the public eye, he always kept his cool, never wanting to seem like he was weak, nervous or anything less than what a King should project.

In private, he was a fidgeter.

"I can't help it."

"Yes, you can. You just think you can get away with it here." Rai reprimanded as she tugged on his coat sleeve. "If this looks too long in the arm, I will not be held responsible," she added under her breath.

Merle wasn't in any better of a mood as she sat on a window ledge, flicking her tail in a choppy rhythm.

Today, of all days, he wished the neko wasn't in a one of her famously troublesome doldrums. Van needed all the positive reinforcements he could sponge up.

The coronation wasn't a worry. He'd been groomed to be king since he was barely able to walk. Without his brother to take the throne, Van's lessons were stepped up several notches in intensity to make up for lost time.

It was the wedding.

The _wedding_had him ready to chew off his nails, not that he was ever a nail chewer, but he was willing to learn. The coronation would be at high noon when the sun was at its peak and then, at sunset, the wedding would be held.

Hitomi wasn't horrible, she was a bit—pushy and irritable but seemed to be able to grow on people(at least according to Rai). During the brief times he was in Hitomi's presence, she was blushing, glaring, or avoiding someone. Her appetite was wonderful though, he thought amused. She was always the first to finish and leave, though she was a bit slow at leaving because of stomach cramps that followed after inhaling one's food.

Sighing to himself, Van started to become slightly depressed.

His parents were _fated_together and the council couldn't tell his father what to do, but Van? The council told him who to marry whether he thought it was or wasn't fate. Maybe, since his parents were so happy together, the balance of chaos had to be preserved and he was destined to be miserable.

Gee, that was a bonus thought.

"Are you okay?" Rai asked, several straight pins sticking out of her mouth.

"He's moping." Merle threw over her shoulder in an annoyed voice. "Because he's being dumb!"

"Merle," Van admonished, exhausted with having to deal with her.

"She's a nice girl, Prince Van," Rai reassured. "Now stand still or I'll rip your arm off."

Before he could put words into his open mouth about her comment, a body burst through his chamber's doors and began to pick up clothes, moving chairs, and grumbling under his breath about something. As the intruder stalked by Van, the Prince cleared his throat to gain the enraged one's attention.

The distraught man glared at the person who had interrupted him. Once his eyes landed on the Prince, the man's annoyed look dissolved into something one step above terror.

"Armand?" Rai asked, poking her head from behind Van.

The chestnut-haired man's eyes flickered around the room in a nervously.

"Y-yes?"

"Is there something you need?" Van inquired with an arched eyebrow.

His fidgeting tempered down greatly in the unexpected arrival of Armand and Rai took this opportunity to get the correct measurements for his arms.

"No, your majesty." The man gave a laugh that indicated he was lying. "It's just that I lost—something."

"I'll help you look. It's better than being in here." Merle stated pointedly as she bounded up to Armand's side. She began to sniff the air and eye the large piles of discarded clothes from when the maid attempted to find the right jacket.

After taking thorough inventory of the setting, Merle crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side as she stared up at the brunette.

"So, what did we lose?"

Sweat started to bead on the man's forehead.

"Oh, it's a-about yay tall," he touched his hand to his shoulder.

"And has green eyes and blonde hair," Armand could almost count down the seconds as the three minds worked on the details.

Reluctantly he muttered under his breath, "and it was also supposed to be in a silk white wedding dress."

"You lost _her_!" Rai and Merle shouted in unison.

"How did you _lose _her?" Van demanded as he tipped his head forward enough to cast his eyes into the shadows of his bangs. Through the curtain, Armand could clearly see a ruby iris staring at him with a disgusted glint.

"It's just that she was there and then she wasn't." Armand swallowed audibly.

"Find her," Van ordered flatly.

Merle and Armand shot out of the doors before he could utter another word.

Van slipped off the jacket, handed it to Rai and stepped down from the wooden stool he had been standing on.

She collected her things before turning to her ruler, "I guess this means you care for her some."

The Prince had to stop himself from snorting, "It would be more embarrassing for me to be stood up at the altar by someone I don't know than married to her."

"True enough."

* * *

"Lady Hitomi!" Armand screamed, weaving through the bushes and flowers of the royal gardens.

Merle had taken to the roofs, claiming it was a quicker way to travel and she could see more of the grounds from the height.

In a desperate act to find the runaway bride, they sought the help of any servant who wasn't on duty for the coronation. Allen, upon hearing the somewhat embarrassing news, decided to aide in the lost-and-found wild goose chase.

Allen and Armand, after two hours of searching, met up at the top of the steps.

Breathlessly, Armand grabbed Allen's shoulder.

"If I die, _wheez _before we find her," Armand sucked in another long breath, "kill her for me."

Allen's face scrunched slightly at the odd humor. "What would make the Lady run away?"

Seemingly recovered, the instructor stood up with his hands on his hips and head cocked to the side.

"She has two legs and fast dragon-sized feet. Apparently that is reason enough for her to run."

_No wonder she ran away_, Allen thought before starting down the stairs.

Armand as well as the rest of the staff had already admitted she could have left this morning or last night, they weren't sure. It was just as Armand had said, she simply disappeared. No matter what, Allen assured himself, he was going to get the lady back.

Watching the long blonde hair disappear in the distance, Armand tapped the tip of his finger against his chin. "Or could it be that I told her what she'd have to do tonight with our dear Prince." He turned his head to the other side. "Or that she'd have to pop a baby out in two years?"

Armand smiled the most sadistic smile he possessed. "Guess I should left some mysteries for the dear prince to disclose."

* * *

"I present to you, Van Salanzar de Fanel, _King_of Fanelia."

Because of the uproar from crowd when he walked into their sights, Van's heart warmed with pride. With their noise of joy, all years from his youth spent studying and sweating found its worth for this moment when just his presence made a crowd jubilant.

He unsheathed the sword of Fanelia, and held it up in the air for his countrymen to see. That sent them into another hysterical hue and cry. Two of the men below looked at each other, Allen sighed and Armand put his hands back on his hips.

"At least _something _is going right," Armand pouted and stormed off in the crowd.

When Van was finally pulled away from being put on display like the latest fashion, Merle was waiting for him with a big hug and bad news.

"Still haven't found her?"

The neko shook her head glumly.

"No. We've looked everywhere!" Her ears and tail both sagged, displaying her disappointment in not being able to be of service to him. "Sorry, Lord Van."

Shucking off the heavy armor, Van patted her head affectionately.

"I'll help. We still have about four hours before everyone notices she's gone, and not just the palace staff."

Merle grabbed onto his shirt, "but Lord Van! We've looked everywhere."

"Check the gardens again; I'll check the west wing." With that, they parted ways.

Van decided to check her room again, there had been a lot of chaos there for the past few days due to the packing and purging Armand had issued. She was to live in the same room as the king, as was Fanelia custom to do—Van felt his cheeks heat up— to assure no mistress was had and an heir would be produced.

Shaking his head as if to clear the thoughts, he quickly made his way to her room and found the door open. Her chamber was nothing less than an organized disaster. There were several piles of dresses and how they were divided, Van didn't want to guess. Instead of picking up the dresses, he decided to poke them with his sheathed sword.

No jerking or yelping, so no Hitomi.

Someone butted the door open further and with an _eep_, bowed low.

"I'm sorry, your majesty." The servant girl said softly.

"Who was the last one to see her?" He studied the girl as her head snapped up.

"S-sir? I wasn't working this morning." She answered timidly. "But Miss Orley was!" Pleased to have an answer for her King, the girl added that she'd fetch the other woman quickly.

When the middle aged woman came into the room, she gave a once over to the king and bowed.

"What can I do for you, highness?"

"Who was the last person to see the Lady Hitomi before she went missing?"

"That would've been Millie, sir. She picks up the lady's morning laundry, by the time Andra was here, the lady was missing and Armand was being troublesome."

Van gave her permission to leave after she gave instructions so he could find Millie. Orley assured the King that Armand had already thoroughly interrogated Millie but Van knew he had a bit more push and pull than the other man.

The girl was just where he was told she would be, up to her elbows in suds and soap in the laundry room. Millie was shy toward the newly-crowned king as he stood before her.

As the time passed, he was getting more and more irritable with the missing Queen-to-be.

Van only asked the servant girl one question.

Her blue eyes grew large, but she answered him faithfully.

* * *

"I wasn't running away from the commitment," Hitomi defended herself. "I was getting away from _him_."

She pointed accusingly at Armand who did everything but stick his tongue out at her.

"You made us waste the day looking for you, selfish girl!" Merle threw in her two cents through gritted teeth. "And you made me miss Lord Van's becoming king."

Hitomi crossed her arms and glared out the window.

She was shocked when Van had found her, herded her out of the hiding spot she found, and made her go back to her room. Armand had been gushing over her loudly while reprimanding her harshly in her ear. Allen had been happy she was safe and secure, Merle had been herself and unashamed to call it like she saw it.

"We have a wedding to prepare for!" Rai roared, making everyone jump in shock. "So everyone who isn't the future Queen or going to help her dress—_get out_."

Armand had been the only one allowed to stay. "You really should learn to take a joke, girl."

"It's not as if I wasn't going to come back." Hitomi pointed out. "I just wanted to get away from you."

Armand's eyebrow twitched, grabbing the lacing of the back of the gown, he yanked it tightly causing Hitomi to gasped and squeak. "Apparently you should run more often, darling. You're getting rather thick around the middle."

Hitomi would have turned around to glare and give a piece of her mind but the tight lacing made movement almost impossible.

_Not everyone can have your girlish figure_, she thought bitterly.

* * *

Van wanted nothing more than to rip his collar open and be able freely breathe again.

Collars, who invented these 'fashionable' torture devices, he'd like to know.

The crowd was impressive, full of royal families and diplomatic representatives spanning from all over the known world.

The church was nothing less than awe inspiring when the guests were seated. Van, in full formal attire, had been placed in front next to the altar where the high priest waited patiently for the bride to enter.

Van wasn't as impatient. To think, she had been washing dishes in the kitchen like a maid! And when he had found her, she immediately began to scrub harder.

As the thunderous music sounded, the main church doors opened dramatically to frame the lone figure standing in the doorway. As the figure drew slowly, yet steadily, closer, Van prepared himself. This was it. Nothing she or he could say at this moment would change what was pledged to happen by the council.

Van was amazed as he silently walked down the few steps in front of the altar. When Hitomi made it to the end of the aisle he could clearly see her face as she gave a small bow before the altar.

The young King's mouth gaped open as his eyes became large.

The scullery-maid acting girl was a sight he had never witnessed. Her short hair was smoothed back as a tiara of rubies and diamonds was situated on her head with her veil cascading down her back. Her green eyes were bright and accented with some sort of glittery silver-blue color as her lips were the shade of the red jewels on her head.

Someone cleared their throat, and the trance Van had found himself in fell away. He held out a hand to the bride, which she took delicately, and then both climbed the steps gracefully.

Once on the last step, he took her hand and looped it through the crook of his arm, resting her hand on his forearm and his hand on top of hers. They turned to face the priest and the congregation was told to be seated.

"You look nice," Van whispered to her, trying to be formal and remembering what Rai had instructed him to say.

"And it only took a few hours." Van glanced at her through the corner of his eye to see a small smile on her lips. "How long did they take on you?"

The priest began the ceremony, and before the couple could process much, they had already slipped the rings on each other's fingers and recited the vows as instructed.

Then came the most awkward part, the priest's instructions to 'kiss the bride' made Van go cold inside. Bracing himself he turned to Hitomi, who was also having a mental battle with herself, she tipped her chin up as he lowered his head and with a brief touch of the lips, it was done.

It was just as if he was shaking hands, Van insisted in his mind. Yes, it was with lips but this was a very unique handshake— that was all.

With barely contained pride, the high priest was able to give the second biggest announcement that day. "My lords and ladies, I am pleased to present to you, Van and Hitomi Fanel, King and Queen of Fanelia."

* * *

The reception was immense; there was food enough to feed several kingdoms and enough liquor to create a steady flowing river. The guests were quick to congratulate the young couple. The entire time Hitomi had stayed on her husband's arm, much to the husband's amazement.

Hitomi had stayed at Van's side because she was afraid to move away from him and be swamped by the throngs of girls who wanted to coo over the dress and ring. Not to mention every guy felt it his duty to ask her to dance and she would have to accept and then her feet would swell under all the punishment. She'd turn into a regular ogre footed person which, last she was aware, was not very attractive.

"Such a _lovely _ceremony!"

"I hope the two of you will be very happy together."

"You'll have many beautiful and strong children."

The compliments just went on and on. Whenever a child was mentioned, Hitomi would close her eyes so no one would see her roll them. They were fortunate enough to get her to the ceremony but if they thought that an heir would be here in nine months, they'd be sorely disappointed.

"You two must dance!" Came a cheerful voice. "It is the best players in this land, come! You must dance!"

The two politely declined and Hitomi shot Van a warning look as he suggested that the happy man take the new bride to the dance floor instead. As Hitomi was being escorted away, Van had a hunch that he'd hear _all_ about it later.

After a few hours more, the guests had run out of repeated phrases and words of congratulations to the new King and Queen and busied themselves with the entertainment and food. The couple though truly grateful for the lack of direct attention, stayed on opposite sides of the room.

Van had been able to sneak into a slightly more secluded part of the room, but when Allen came walking up, he figured he hadn't gone far enough. He liked Allen, he was a good swordsman and had proven to be an excellent sparring partner, but Van wanted to be relieved of people for a few moments. There were only so many hands one could shake before one's arm became tired.

Allen, never being completely subtle, launched into one topic Van had no desire to pursue—Hitomi. They had gone back and forth for a bit before the blonde sighed.

"Perhaps if you talked to her," Allen suggested gently. "She's a nice girl."

Van wanted to just nod and walk off but everyone had been tottering on thin ice around him about this topic. Except Merle, but she had been going on about how much she disapproved of the match, not much help since the match was a set and sealed deal.

Sealed with a kiss and a few vows deal.

"Talk to _her_?" Van clarified looking over at the bride who appeared to be overwhelmed with well-wishers and other females fawning over her for whatever reasons girls' will fawn.

"You make it sound detestable."

Van flinched, he didn't mean to come off like that, but every time Hitomi and he got in the same room she'd play the glaring game or they'd talk and end up snapping and snarling (figuratively of course) at each other. It wasn't like they _hated_ each other, it was awkward to meet someone for the first time and know that this person, who you have never seen before, is going to be your future spouse.

"Yes, milord, it's only talking, it's not like we are asking you to-"

"Marry her?" Van finished dryly, an eyebrow raised.

Allen gave an encouraging smile and opened his mouth to continue the gentle debate, but Van caught the gist before the knight could do anything.

"I'll try."

An approving nod and the man walked away, promising another sparring session before he left to go back to Palas.

* * *

As Van made his way to his bedroom, Armand was coming away from that direction with a smirk and an evil glint in his eyes.

"You're majesty!" The man bowed low and Van sighed.

"Yes, Armand?"

"I have good news. The Queen has already been escorted to your bedroom and I made sure all the windows were securely locked and posted _male_ servants to attend to her. So no more switcher-roo like before, also I have two guards outside your door until you get there."

Van nodded and continued down the hall.

"Good luck your majesty! Have fun!" The brunette added. "And may we hear the pitter patter of little feet within a year!"

Van's face went red at that thought.

_She_ was in _his_ room. Everyone was snickering and smiling about what they _thought _was going to happen this night, but Van was exhausted and Hitomi probably would simply wither up and die if she knew. No need to rush, Van assured himself.

After dismissing the guards, Van walked through the door and shut it securely to make sure Armand didn't come back to cheer him on. There was very little anyone in the castle would put past Armand, coming into the bed chambers of a newlywed couple was one of the things he would do just because—well, Van wasn't as talented at coming up with inane reasons as the other male was.

"Hitomi?" Van called, knowing this was going to be a long, _long_ night.


	6. Hot Questions

**Chapter 6**

* * *

Hitomi gripped the side of the bed tighter as she sat on the edge of the feather filled mattress. The male had said her name and she had reacted the one way she had been trying to convince herself she wouldn't. She was _scared_. Armand, before his departure, had been shocked to see her so pulled in to herself and not willing to throw things at his head.

"Hitomi?" Van questioned again.

From the sound of his voice, he was coming closer. She made a noise in the back of her throat that was a cross between a fearful squeak and nervous laugh. The blonde wasn't so naïve as to think he didn't know what to expect from her. She really didn't want to, but if she could just bare it this time, this one time, maybe she'd get over her anxiety and be able to do what everyone told her she was supposed to do.

Fanelia would need an heir. She just got married, why not completely terrorize her and make herself a mother as well. Hitomi clamped her eyes tightly as she waited for her husband to come over and—well, naturally do what he was supposed to do.

Instead of a harsh push or gentle caress to ignite the moment, she opened her eyes to see his booted feet next to her bare toes. Gulping, she looked up at Van whose face was hidden behind his black bangs and the shadows playing across his skin.

What was he going to do? What was going through his mind?

She flinched when she saw him move his hand and make and 'o' with his pointer finger and thumb. He brought it to her eye level, and gently flicked her in the middle of the forehead.

Her hand flew up to cover up the abused place.

"What was that for?" she demanded, fear forgotten and shock taking hold.

"Move over. I'm used to sleeping on this side."

Numbly, Hitomi shifted to the other side of the bed just in time to avoid being hit by Van as he collapsed, sword and all, into the bed. With a sigh, he was out. Hitomi blinked in confusion. After a few moments, she decided not to think too much and follow his suit.

* * *

"Hello, hello, hello!" Armand sang out as he entered, almost dancing, through the bedroom doors.

The biggest reaction he got was Hitomi cracking an eye open in acknowledgment of the man's too sweet attitude for morning.

"And how are you my little Queen?" He pinched her cheek as he leaned over her.

A wicked thought streaked through Hitomi's mind, but it was too early to properly carry on a fight, whether sarcastic or real, so she just closed her eyes again. She grabbed an extra pillow and placed it over her head, trying to block out the fancy man.

Her feathery helmet was ripped from her and thrown across the room.  
Hitomi groaned.

"Tired?" Armand asked, his voice dripping with smugness, "as well you should be!"

"I'm Queen; do I really need you anymore?" She yawned and sat up jerkily. Hitomi was slightly bitter at herself for not throwing the pillow at him as she did yesterday, but then again, yesterday he had turned around and _whapped _her with it.

Two days of being Queen and she got him as a wake-up call. Van, apparently, was an early riser and never made a noise when he left or maybe she really did sleep like the dead. In fact, the groggy minded female realized, she was still only seeing the King at meals.

"Of course! A crown doesn't change who you are, just changes your location in the social ladder." Armand stood up, arms folded behind his back.

"Even though social ladders are rather slippery at the top and I would just _hate_ to see Fanelia fall into ruin because the Queen made it sink into the black hole of disgrace because she wouldn't participate in her lessons as her loving instructor tried to get her to do."

Pulling the sheets up to her chin, the female came to the conclusion that no matter what she did, Armand would always find some way of having her lack of enthusiasm toward him mean that Fanelia was going to end up in ruin.

"Where did you learn how to make people feel guilty?"

"My mother," he answered smartly, told her to get dressed, and meet him in the dining hall.

Hitomi watched the door shut and flopped back down on the bed. It was strange, she thought, that the King wasn't making a move to—consummate their relationship. Maybe, Hitomi thought, it was that he felt the same way she did about it. She'd never been like her sister and believed in casual acquaintances, but in love.

That's what hurt the most. Hitomi's father hadn't considered his daughter's feelings, not even for a second. Instead, he insisted that she would be happy with money. Money might be nice, but it wasn't nearly as important as feeling good with the person you were to be attached to for your entire life.

She turned onto her side, one arm tucked underneath her head as the other one grabbed a fist full of sheet. If it were possible to, Hitomi would hate her father, but instead she only sighed. He was her father, and used to be someone amazing before he was so money hungry.

"Are you out of bed yet!" Armand screamed from the hallway, punctuating his sentence with a firm slap on the door.

_And life goes on_, the girl thought clambering out of the bed.

* * *

It took a week after the nuptials before Leiko was permitted back into the palace. There was an understanding that she was not allowed to let her mother in or to take anything from the palace.

Hitomi was thankful to see her sister again even if it was just for lunch. Armand had been a bigger pest than before the wedding; he kept referring to how she was Queen and would ruin Fanelia if she didn't listen to him. When she would point out that she couldn't do that, he'd fly into a higher state of dramatics complete with arm gestures and fantastic stories he imagined the future would be. Of course, all the stories were rather horrendous in nature.

When she cockily mentioned that if she failed, then he failed and therefore any ruin would be his entire fault. In response _he_ gave her a pointed look. "Nice try, girl but you have so far to go before you can touch _this_."

Hitomi shook her head, bringing her back to the present lunch date and the conversation— if that is what one could call it.

"So, where's your man?" Her big sister smiled with an odd twitch to her lips.  
Hitomi wiped her mouth with the white napkin in her lap. "He's gone to train in the woods."

Leiko's eyes flashed with encouragement as she checked the room to make sure no ears were perked and pressed into their conversation.

"So," she started, leaning forward, "how was it?"

"The salad?" Hitomi asked, poking the greens with her fork. She had been disinterested in most of what her sister had to say since it tended to be nonsense about guys. For the past half hour she had gone on and on about her latest interest since her last engagement fell through. Or more correctly, since he died.

"No!" Leiko rolled her eyes. "The wedding night." She gave a big smile and shook her head, winking as she tapped the side of her face with her finger.

"What about it?" Hitomi stabbed the leaf of lettuce with her fork.

"How was he?"

"Exhausted." Hitomi answered honestly. Leiko nearly choked on her water. "But who wouldn't be?"

"What did you do?" Her sister was almost across the table and in her face with surprise.

"I slept."

Leiko's jaw dropped. "Y-you mean to tell me you _slept _the entire time?"

Her eyebrows crashed together. "What else was I suppose to do?"

"Participate!"

"I _was_— by sleeping!" Hitomi defended herself. "He could do whatever he wished it didn't bother me."

Leiko groaned and fell back in her chair.

"My little sister is unbelievable. You slept with the _King_ of a country and all you did was sleep?"

Hitomi forgot about her salad as her sister began to grumble under her breath about how energy was wasted on the young.

"What else was I _supposed _to do?" Hitomi wanted to know. "Stay up all night and stare up at the ceiling?"

Her sister, no longer able to take the insanity of the Queen, jumped up to her feet and poked the girl in her shoulder with her fork. "You were supposed to enjoy yourself."

"I slept like a baby, I _did_enjoy myself." Hitomi's temper was starting to spark.

"And you missed all his fun!"

"Why? What was he doing?"

Leiko blinked at her and, as Hitomi stared at her sister, the confusion started to clear up. The blonde's eyes expanded in understanding.

"Y-you mean-," her cheeks did a steady color change from peach to pink to red to a much deeper shade of crimson.

The older woman gave the younger one a questioning glance.

"Well, of course." Leiko gave a short laugh when she realized the mistake.

"_No_!" Hitomi answered. How could her sister be so forward with her questioning! Didn't this woman have a shred of decency? She wanted to laugh as the answer came to her, of course her sister didn't. Hitomi and her (missing) younger sister were the socially acceptable ones. They weren't loud and in other people's business like Leiko and their parents. The older parts of her family were always questioning (badgering) and making pesks of themselves.

"Don't sound so _disgusted_, Hitomi." The guest gave a smirk as she leaned on one of her hands and gave her sister her classic 'come hither' eyes. "I'm sure you won't be soon enough. Maybe you've been blind to his advances."

"He hasn't _made _any advances," Hitomi confessed with redden cheeks and twitching eyes.

Her sister seemed to take this information in and digested it before spitting out what she thought.

"Maybe he likes a woman who takes charge." Leiko nodded at her own statement in agreement.

Hitomi, for once, was wishing the brunette man would come in through the doors, singing, and insisting she needed to do something like smell a rose or _something_. The candle could visibly be seen being lit in Leiko's head as her eyes brightened, her head snapped forward to look at Hitomi. The older female grabbed her sister by the shoulders.

"You need to seduce him!"

"_What_!" Hitomi released herself from her sister's grasp and got up quickly from her chair. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because, darling, let's face it, your body, at this age, can bounce back from having three babies at once but wait too long to start popping them out and you'll look like, well," she leaned closer, "You've seen mother." Leiko took a deep breath as she shook her head as if in pity.

"I'm leaving." Like a bee to a flower, the blonde made her way to the door and quickly went into the hall. It didn't stop there though, oh no, like all of the things she pursued, Leiko wouldn't give up the fight until she was dead or victorious.

"Go home!" Hitomi ordered, but Leiko followed her instead.

* * *

"Your majesty?"

Van had honestly, and in vain, hoped the council would let him rest after his hunting/training trip. He barely dismounted and prepared himself for Merle's welcome back tackle before the councilman had come up to him hesitantly.

"Yes?"

Merle gave a short hiss of annoyance at the man for her precious Lord Van being taken away from her just after she had gotten him back, but was silenced quickly with a look.

"I would like to request a private audience with you, milord, whenever you are able to schedule it." The man gave a deep bow and turned to leave.

Van turned his head away, as much as he would like to run to his room, jump in the bath and be in bed before sunset, the council made themselves rather annoying when they were made to wait.

He ran his gloved fingers through his ebony hair. With a sharp look of repulsion, he pulled his hand from his hair to see the blood and other inward parts of the buck still speckling his glove. It was too late that he remembered that the hunt from the day had been cleaned with his hands. Wiping it on his pants he asked Merle to be the one to catch the man and tell him to wait in the garden.

"You wished to see me?" Van asked a few minutes later, after he was cleaned up a bit more. He couldn't stand the thought of having the guts in his hair, so he had dumped a pail of water over his head, thoroughly soaking himself, but feeling cleaner.

"Yes, sire," the man cleared his throat, "as you know you and our new Queen have been invited to several different kingdoms to honeymoon."

Van remembered very clearly to turn each and everyone down politely since he was too busy with the kingdom to leave it.

"Go on."

The man pulled at his collar, "we have recently received another invitation from the kingdom of Slena, from King Coron."

The Fanelian King made a noise under his breath, he had a very strong feeling where this would be going and where he would soon be going as well.

"He has made a special request that the King and Queen come to his palace."

"If I accept this invitation, it'll become known to the other places I've turned down. Wouldn't that upset them?"

"It would, sire, yes. However, considering how far back the kingdoms go, we can cover up this visitation as a necessary trip to reinstate a trade treaty." They were excellent at cutting off all his escape routes without him just giving a flat no. "We cannot force you to go, sir, but I believe it will be most beneficial."

Van sighed, when was the last time he had heard that? Oh yes, when they told him he was engaged and soon after that, married. They were right on this account. Slena was a good friend to the kingdom and had always aided Fanelia in every wayward adventure they went into.

"Just tell me when you plan on getting with him," came a sharp and shrill female voice.

"Go away!" Replied another female with clear exasperation in her voice.

The trio could not help but be intrigued by the sudden outbursts and slowly trickled toward the sound coming from the opposite end of the stables.

"How many times must I tell you that I don't _know_ and if I ever _do _know I certainly won't share it with you!"

"That sounds like the Queen," the council elder whispered, as they continued to creep forward.

"Just tell me how sure you are that he isn't!"

They came to the doors of the stable and without warning; one of the doors flew open. Merle caught it in the face and was knocked back into a thick bush of roses as Hitomi stormed through, ignorant of anyone and everything.

"_If_ the King _did_ prefer men, I certainly wouldn't know! No matter how much you say I look like a young teenage male!" Hitomi bellowed, her skirts lifted and tromped further into the garden with a scowl on her face. Van peered from around the door after attending to Merle, but only just missed Leiko throwing the door open again.

"But why haven't you, you know, warmed the sheets?" Leiko stopped, put her hands on her hips and demanded to her sister's back. "Are you to tell me you don't think he's good looking? That you don't think he is distractingly _delicious_!"

"Yes!" Hitomi did an about-face and gave a steady, irked look to her sister. "I think he is very handsome or whatever you want to call it! Is that okay with you? He is very good looking. He is highly distracting! He is—" she saw Leiko's smirking face, but beyond that she saw a pair of large reddish-brown eyes above reddened cheeks and below jet-black hair. "— standing right over there."

Van.

"Who is?" Leiko turned around to see the King and one of the other stuff shirts hiding behind the door with a rather angry looking neko. "Oh."

"Oh my gods."


	7. Pink

**Chapter 7**

* * *

"She simply can't go!"

Merle growled and hissed at the coachman who was placing one of the several trunks of the royal couple onto the back of the coach. Van had been the one who insisted upon taking one of the coaches instead of riding the horses all the way to Slena. The journey was going to take three weeks, depending on the weather and roads, and the King wouldn't hear of anything more than ground transportation for the trip.

"Lord Van!" The cat girl gripped her friend's shirt tighter. "Let me come."

"Sorry, Merle." The pink haired female gave an 'I'm-not-happy-with-you' glance at the raven haired king and let him go as she crossed her arms with a 'humph'.

"I promise next time." Truth been told, he already knew she wasn't going to be able to come. Rai had suggested that the long ride to and from Slena would be a good opportunity for the King and Queen to converse. Also, the members of the council pointed out it seemed a bit awkward (even scandalous) for the King to prefer a cat girl rather than a human woman.

People would talk.

Even after Van insisted people would always talk, he finally determined it was for the best.

Maybe Merle wouldn't sabotage the entire castle, but maybe she'd take some of her feline frustration out on one or all of the council members who had been, as of late, rulers of Van's personal life.

"You better bring me something nice then!" The neko warned, tail flicking in a jerky pattern.

Van gave her a little smile; it was the closest thing he was going to get to an agreement from her. "I will."

* * *

"This is going to be very uncomfortable," Hitomi concluded, staring at her reflection in the large mirror hanging on a bedroom wall.

Armand had refused anything less than the puffiest, poofiest, most disgusting use of pink fabric and tulle there possibly could have been or ever be. It was a long, full skirt with a tight bodice that ended in what looked like a white jester's collar. It was horrible, worse of all; he completed the outfit by placing two rather ghastly large pink flowers on either side of her head.

"Darling, if comfort was meant to be part of looking good, men wouldn't have invented the corset." Throwing the last pair of shoes into a trunk, the servants were called to fetch the trunks.

"Which you don't have to wear," Hitomi replied flatly.

"Not _required _to wear," Armand smirked as he fluffed out her skirt even more.

"Is that a personal confession?"

"I don't need one, I have abs like stone." To prove his statement, the man gave himself a few pats on his stomach. Then he adjusted the flowers on the top of her head, a wicked temptation slithered its way out of his mouth. "But I guess you would know all about confessing personal secrets."

The Queen's face almost popped with the sudden change in color. Had _everyone _found out about that? Most of the women had just giggled when she walked by but the men would give a sullen smile. Armand, bless his black little beating raisin of a heart, hadn't let the issue drop in the past two days.

Leiko had been so overcome with a laughing fit; she ended up crying in the middle of the garden. She was double over with laughter so Hitomi couldn't even make believe it was sympathy tears.

For his part, Van hadn't changed a beat. He would come to the room after she did and leave before she got up. The only proof she had that he had even been in the same room was the right side of the bed's sheets had been ruffled and sometimes still had warmth on them when she woke up.

"At least I get a reprieve from you for a few weeks."

Armand snorted so hard, Hitomi was sure part of the floor was missing.

"Only in your wildest and cleanest fantasies, your Majesty."

He offered her his arm and she accepted it with hesitation.

"I get to come with you as your personal servant. King Van agreed that it would be the best way to keep you from blurting anything else out."

"You're making that up."

Did Van really consider her some type of trouble maker? Had he been embarrassed but too polite, or upset to mention anything to her? Although they were close in age, maybe he thought she acted like a child? Hitomi had a million doubts and reasons to back up the doubts in her mind as they walked down the steps to where the carriage waited.

"I am your glorified babysitter," Armand insisted as he opened the coach door.

The blonde girl was quickly distracted from her current mind full of worry as she laid eyes on the tiny door and looked down at her disgusting large skirt.

"How am I supposed to fit through that mouse door with all the fabric on Gaea wrapped around me?"

Armand didn't answer but offered her a hand as she mounted the steps. She ducked her head and took one step in when she met with a pair of mahogany eyes who quickly turned away.

"You get in there with a good shove," the brunette answered from the other side of her skirt and gave her a firm nudge into the carriage. She made an '_eep_' and ended up on the opposite side of the carriage, skirts and all. She sat down but found that though there was a fair amount of fabric on her backside, the closest layer to her skin was rather starched and itchy.

Crossing her arms while staring out the window, Hitomi sighed as she watched Armand saddle up on one of the traveling animals. He almost appeared regal in a twisted nightmarish way as he sat upon the beast.

"Ready?" The coachman asked, with a swift nod from the last traveler, the carriage jerked forward.

"Bye, Lord Van!" Merle called out from the steps, waving her hand wildly in the air until the box was out of sight.

* * *

Two long and silent hours later, the group had made it into the forests surrounding the capital of Fanelia. Armand had been riding right next to the carriage and whistling the same song over and over again. Hitomi would have liked to open the door and give him what for, but her skirts restricted her movement. She was reduced to giving him pointed looks, which Armand would see sometimes and grin like a malicious villain in return.

Sighing, the girl rested her head on the back of the seat, desperate for entertainment of any sort. There was always the possibility of talking to the other occupant, but his body language screamed discomfort. She wasn't the only one who was forced to be formal. He was in the black pants, knee high boots, high collared button down shirt with a rather stiff looking red jacket embellished in gold with Fanelia's crest. Van, from time to time, would jerk on his collar and tug on the white gloves that he was wearing.

Maybe he was uncomfortable but at least he could breathe. Hitomi tried to rearrange herself to make the restricting bodice more bearable.

"Are you well?" Finally! Van _did _know how to speak. Jade met cinnamon as she opened her mouth to reply, but quickly found that the bodice was hurting to the point that she could see spots before her eyes. Great, she was going to pass out and then slip into a comatose state because her vindictive teacher decided it would be a lark to make her suffer.

"No," Hitomi placed her hands over her stomach as the spots increased.

"Stop the carriage," Van shouted out the window. With a few slower steps and turn of the wheels, the box stopped. "Maybe some air will make you feel better."

She nodded and tried to open the door only to find it missing and Armand's smiling face in its place. "Need assistance, milady?"

Hitomi would tar and feather him later, right now; he was the cheerful muscle she needed to help exhume her from the prison of both carriage and dress. Armand laughed nervously as the Queen exited the carriage and, with his aid, made it to the woods.

Leaning against a tree, Hitomi gulped in air. If this was what it meant to be fashionable, she'd rather be in rags. Glancing back toward the carriage, she was confused to see the king exiting it as well. "Where is he going?"

"To get air," Armand waved his hand flippantly, "and so to change into more suitable traveling I would imagine. Without the council and the other stiff shirts, every royal is able to shuck some of the formal attire required of them." He gave a laugh. "Once, when I was visiting this kingdom, the king of that place went running through the halls without a stitch of clothing on, swearing it was the latest fashion."

"And I have to go around in _this_?" It wasn't fair! Women always got the short and tight end of the stick while men could, from what Armand insisted, run around naked as long as he sounded lucid enough to defend himself.

"Didn't you reserve a dress to change into?" He inquired innocently, though his cocky grin ruined his acting.

He did this on purpose. He chose this dress because he knew this would happen and she wouldn't be able to hit him from the sheer lack of strength. Even if she had been able to move, the dress acted like a bumper, not letting her within arm's length of the annoying man.

"You knew I didn't know," Hitomi said bitterly.

"Well then, perhaps we can ask King Van if there are any extras of his clothes. Be back in a buzz." Before she could protest, the brunette nuisance was off and running toward the caravan.

Sliding her way down the tree, the bodice felt like it was tightening again. Taking slow, calculated breaths, she tried to convince herself that she was getting plenty of air and had no need for panic.

Leaning her head back on the base of the tree, she reached to her hair and quickly plucked the awful flowers from either side of her head. At least _that_ would make her look better but not feel better. With the soft thumps of approaching footsteps, the young woman swiveled her head and was met with the silhouette of the odious Armand.

"Well, what do you know! I peeked in my saddle bag and lo and behold there was one of your frumpy little dresses of ole. I must have saved it as a rag to wash my horse down with." Armand offered her the dress and then his hand to allow her to stand. Hitomi took both but not without a hazy, half energized look of utterly unamused emotion.

"You had this planned the entire time, didn't you?" The Queen asked after the attendant had shooed her further from the road as not to get seen by the others in the party and helped unlace the bodice. The first thing the freed girl did was take a deep breath of air, ah, it felt good to be untamed by the cage of fashion.

"What ever do you mean?"

"You knew the King was going to stop and change and you put me in that dress," she pointed accusingly at the pink mountain, "for a laugh."

"I laugh enough watching you try to remain a lady in the presence of others, the dress was my vindication for you running away on the wedding date. You made me look bad, I don't like looking bad." His voice had lost the light air of amusement for the briefest of tones. "Besides, the king might like a little leg."

Plucking one of her shoes from the ground, she quickly and precisely threw it at the infuriating man's head. It hit his wavy locks and all that was underneath of it with a sound 'thwack' that made Hitomi smile in triumph.

"Go back to the carriage and leave me alone." She commanded.

Taking a chance, the man turned, rubbing his head gingerly where the shoe had connected. "And leave you out here alone? Preposterous!"

"Leave me alone, I'm almost done anyway and take that _thing _with you." Hitomi tilted her nose a bit further in the air since all he could see was her head from behind the bush she was hiding behind to change. Armand grumbled and said a few unpleasant things about her gender in general but obeyed.

"If you get kidnapped by some toothless mountain goat man, do _not _call for me. Because I just know I'll get fired because you got yourself raped, maimed, and murdered by some overly hairy man with bad hygiene."

"I'm sorry your complete delusional experience of my death is so horrific for your career," Hitomi shot back as he marched away, an armful of frill and bows.

Slipping the dress over her head, she took a sigh of relief. Never had she ever imagined loving this dress so much in her life. After locating the shoe turned projectile, the young woman ran back to carriage and refused Armand's aid.

As soon as she had situated herself, the door opened again and the dark haired king stepped into the box, shut the door, and within a minute, the carriage lurched forward again. Hitomi sighed contently as she folded her arms behind her head and looked out the window.

"Feeling better?" the other occupant asked. Hitomi turned toward the voice. Van was dressed in his normal attire of tan pants, brown boots and gloves topped off by a red sleeveless shirt that showed off his toned and tanned arms amazingly well. She tore her eyes away from him and gazed out the window again.

She missed the small smile Van gave her at this less than subtle action.

"Much. I can breathe without feeling like my ribs are in a vice."

"Ah."

That was the extent of the conversation. Van tried to think or something to say but drew a blank.

He told Allen he would try, but Van's ability to start and maintain a conversation was never a good one. Sure, he could recite ever single treaty and war strategy that his country had been in or devised, but ask him 'how was the weather' and he got lost, even on that.

While Hitomi was trying to hide the blush coloring her cheeks from looking at him in the eyes since her rather unexpected confession a few days ago, Van studied her. Thankfully she had changed out of that pink monstrosity. When his escorts had seen her coming down the stairs, they tried their best not to laugh, but when Van started to snicker under his breath, they let loose. She looked like some type of fairy tale princess nightmare gone horribly wrong.

Surveying her current choice of dress, he had to mentally approve of it with high marks. She looked like a real person in the shorter, looser dress and not a little girl's doll. She had her ankles crossed and hands idly playing with each other in her lap as she gazed out the window. He gave her another small smile that she didn't see but quickly averted his eyes away from Hitomi when a certain gold band caught his eye.

No matter how sweet and innocent, girls weren't to be trusted.

Hadn't he already learned that the hard way?

* * *

When the sun was close to setting, the team stopped to make camp. Hitomi had been unable to provide any sort of help seeing as how every male strived to be of aid to her, except Van who mainly stuck to working. The two moons were burning brightly and a deep chill had come over the group by the time all the men were sitting around the campfire laughing and carrying on.

Hitomi had been able to secure a blanket and a spot a fair distance away from the fire. Every time she dared to go close to the fire, the laughter would stop and the men would revert back into gentlemen. Not wanting to ruin their fun, she decided to stay away from the fire. Van had been arranged a bit further from the road. Hitomi asked Armand about it and the inane man just chuckled and said it was the men's idea.

She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, closing her eyes, attempting to focus on something other than how her entire body was trembling under to cool touch of the night. The crunch of the grass under booted feet caught the girl's attention as she turned her face to see the tall brunette, blue eyed man looking down at her.

"Cold?"

Tugging the blanket even tighter, she nodded her head sullenly.

"To bad you didn't have a nice, hot man to curl up with during the cold night." Armand placed the back of his hand on his forehead, Hitomi rolled her eyes. "Oh wait!" He snapped his fingers, "You _do_!" The innocent and bewildered look he'd been giving her earlier melted away into a stern expression. "Get over there! The others and I won't disturb the two of you."

Hitomi hesitated, but climbed to her feet.

"Just don't do anything too inappropriate, we _can_ see you two after all." She paused for a moment making an inarticulate sound and then proceeded toward where the king had situated himself near a personal fire. The closer she went, the more uncertainty ate at her stomach.

What if he didn't want her near him? He obviously had made his camp about thirty feet away from the rest of the group for a reason. Swallowing, the blonde quickly looked for an excuse to walk to him. She wasn't hungry, some of the others and Van had already hunted, cooked, and shared a meal. He hadn't said much, but he didn't seem to be a big conversationalist.

Van's eyes almost appeared red as she stood across from him, just outside the circle of the fire glow. His hair turned to a dark chocolate brown under the warmth's color; the shadows deepened and accentuated his already toned flesh. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she turned her face to the ground, the blanket draped around her shoulders and her balled fists at her sides.

"Hitomi?" Van had watched her approach through the corner of his eye. The men of the group had been rather tricky with trying to get the two of them together. They purposefully had moved all his camping equipment to a small forest alcove, away from the rest of the group. Van had shrugged, but doubted the girl would search him out. She did however and was standing rather still a few feet from him.

"Do you mind if I join you?" she asked tentatively.

"No," glowing reddish-brown eyes followed her as she careful sat down, pulling her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms and blanket around them. Resting her chin on her knees, she sighed happily, feeling the warmth seeping into her chill goose-bumped flesh. Jade met garnet and stayed focused on them.

_Say something_… Van's mind fussed at him in Rai's voice.

"Where are we going again?" Thankfully, she decided to jump start to conversation much to Van's pleasure.

"Slena," he answered, rather to the point and not letting much conversation to bleed from that.

"Oh," was her reply.

Van mentally berated himself for not giving her something else to feed off of his answer. Maybe it wasn't too late?

"It's a kingdom to the west, almost next to Asturia." Rai would be proud; Merle would be rolling her eyes and trying to get his attention so that meant he was doing a good job Van wagered. "They are good friends with Fanelia."

"Are you good friends with the family there?" Hitomi inquired.

"Yes, I know the King well; Coron and I are about the same age. He came to Fanelia about three years ago." Van poked the fire with a stick, breaking the eye contact with Hitomi. He would consider that _that _was the reason for her next question.

"Why couldn't you find your own bride?"

Then came a noise that made Hitomi jumped, it didn't come from the dark woods, but from the dark-haired man whose bangs now covered his eyes. All movement had stopped; his laid the hand that had been stoking the fire across his drawn up knee. Hitomi was waiting for a chuckle or some type of noise to erupt from his throat but nothing came.

The crack and pop of the fire stole the silence. The uneasiness enveloped the female so much she abruptly stood up, letting the blanket fall to the ground in a heap. Casting one glance at the circle of men off in the distance, she huffed and turned on her heels toward the forest behind her.

"Where are you going?" Van asked, his voice was low, with an almost silent warning creeping in. Since it was _almost_, Hitomi ignored it.

"To take a walk," she stated firmly.

"You shouldn't leave camp, especially at night."

Concern? Hitomi doubted it at this point. She had obviously hit a nerve, but if he wouldn't tell her, how would she know?

"It's a lot warmer out there, then it is _here_," with that, she tipped her nose a bit higher and strolled blindly into the woods.


	8. Talk

** Chapter 8**

* * *

Hitomi stalked through the shadowed woods, the double moons hidden behind a thick curtain of gray clouds. She wasn't really mad, more put out that Van had suddenly clammed up even more than he already was. She was just curious why a handsome, supposedly smart, rumored nice, and thought to be a good guy wasn't able to pick his own little princess. It seemed a perfectly fair question to her, but men always made things so personal.

_If he didn't want to talk about it, all he had to do was say something_, Hitomi fumed mentally as she pushed her way deeper into the dense forest. Some limbs reached out and scratched at her skin, others back lashed after being moved and slapped her harshly. The pink nightmare dress would have been caught up, but the soft fabric of her shorter dress was easily hurt and damaged. Hitomi didn't see it nor did she care since there was nothing she could do about it currently.

Then, as in every bull headed in the dark situation, there was heard a noise.  
Of course there were noises! Hitomi gave a small nervous chuckle at her own fluttering heart.

There was nothing to fear in the woods except the dark shadowy places were things liked to lurk. Things like those animals with long jagged teeth perfect for tearing a young body from limb to limb or maybe even that toothless mountain man with horrible hygiene who Armand had mentioned earlier.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that someone like that had seen her changing and followed the carriage? Maybe he was just waiting for her to be all by herself again to make his move?

Hitomi's skin began to prick with fear as her thoughts ran into a colorful illusion. She shook her head, trying to calm her fears, but her heart was already racing with the sudden surge of adrenaline flowing through her veins. Why did she leave the camp again?

Oh yes, her _beloved_ husband hadn't been the friendliest. It was a perfect legitimate question to ask him!

With another noise, Hitomi claimed the question as totally unreasonable and kept trudging through the foliage. A constant breeze made her shiver harder as she walked on. She wished that she had just walked back to the tree Armand had found her at or at least had taken the blanket with her!

Hitomi's breath hitched in her throat when she heard a twig snap that stopped her in her blind adventure. Her green eyes grew, trying to take in as much light as possible to make as much of her surrounding visible, but it helped little. Should she ask who was there?

Maybe it would give away her location? What to do, what to do!

Gulping, the Queen sent a silent prayer that someone would come and rescue her. It hadn't worked on her wedding day, but maybe it would now. Perhaps whoever was in charge was going to have pity on her for neglecting her earlier.

Another snap and a soft crunch of dried leaves under a foot.

Nope, the gods were still against her.

It was coming closer.

What if it wasn't human? What if it was?

Which would be worse? A person you might be able to reason with, but a person could also do some cruel things. All an animal could do was rip you apart. Hitomi pondered briefly and came to a conclusion that given the choice, she'd take option C. Option C was to kick, scream, bite, and do whatever it took to get away from her attacker.

A warm brush of-of _something_ on the back of her arm was the hair line trigger the panicky female needed to enact option C.

Screaming, the girl closed her eyes, whirled around, and with her right hand balled into a fist, the way her sister's boyfriend had shown her, she threw a punch. She hoped it would knock out who or whatever was directly in the back of her. Her assault hit its target as she felt her fist connect with something and a surprised 'oomph' was released. Directly afterward there was another crunch of twigs, as if someone was catching their balance.

Then the world was still.

The green eyed woman cracked one of those eyes open slowly.

"Y-Your-" Hitomi's mouth quivered, trying to chase away the adrenaline rush left over from her panic attack.

Cinnamon colored eyes with a very displeased glint to them stared back at her; a hand was cupping his left cheek as a frown etched his mouth.

She had just hit Van.

She had decked her husband.

She just _punched _the king.

"I am _so_ sorry!" Hitomi gushed out, stepping back from Van who gave a twitch of an eyebrow but nothing more. Not knowing him very well, the woman wasn't sure if a mild twitch of the eyebrow was a good or bad thing but regardless, he didn't look happy. He _never_ looked _happy _per say, just tolerant. She swallowed hard. It was illegal to behead the Queen of the country, wasn't it?

Gods, she hoped so.

"I told you not to leave camp alone," Van said in an unamused voice. His eyes narrowed a bit more, and Hitomi tried to step back, but a sudden chill sent her into a violent shiver. With a tug of his lips, he stated the obvious, "you're freezing."

With a sullen nod, she heard him sigh.

"We need to get back," Van turned, released his reddened cheek and trudged back toward camp. Hitomi wasn't sure what to expect from that man. Given any other man, she'd probably would have been left or yelled at, perhaps even hit back, Van didn't do anything.

She scratched her head, unsure what to think about this King until she noticed that he was steadily getting smaller. "Don't leave me!" she pleaded, running after his retreating form.

* * *

Bumping along in the carriage the next day, the couple sat on their respective seats across from each other, both looking out the window. After they had returned from the forest adventure, Armand and one of the other travelers, Jill, were waiting for them. Van, apparently, had taken off without telling anyone and the travelers didn't even notice them gone until a few minutes after the couple had left.

Armand's excuse?

"I didn't want to interrupt any private moments," he shrugged and Van's face colored slightly as Hitomi just tipped her head in confusion. None of the men clarified.

When breakfast was through, they loaded up, and off they went.

Van hadn't said a single word to her, but she wasn't extending her voice either. Hitomi readjusted her dress for lack of things to do. There had to be _something_that was safe. She wasn't used to long, painful stretches of complete silence.

She mentally snapped her fingers. That was it! Her sister and she used to play a game with all the new children at school to break the ice and become friends. It was supposed to be a fun game of silly questions that would release the uneasiness or shyness of the participants.

"Do you want to play a game?"

Van gave her a flat look, "games are for kids."

"But this one can be for adults as well," she smiled encouragingly. When he didn't object, she went on. "I ask a question and you answer, if you want to do the same with me, you can." She already knew his name, where he was from, his age and what he wanted to do when he grew up so what was the next question?

"What's your favorite color?" Simple questions, that was how the players always had to start out. Van closed his eyes and turned his face to the side. Hitomi's spirits dropped. Perhaps she was pushing her luck with him. Maybe he was still upset about her question last night. She wasn't building up to ask him _that_ any time soon.

"Red," Van's low voice answered and the blonde's heart skipped with excitement.

"Favorite season?" Hitomi went on, glad to see her husband responding.

"Summer," he turned his face back in her direction, his arms still crossed over his chest. If this is what it took to keep her occupied, he'd comply within reason.

"What shoe do you put on first?" Van's eyebrows went up and Hitomi's smile grew a bit at his confusion. This was the fun part of the game, to send the person a shooting star in their direction and see how on their toes they were.

"Uh, the left?" Van guessed, and she gave a short laugh at his expression. He felt himself relax a degree at her easiness. "Why aren't you answering any of your own questions?"

"That's the second part of the game. It was actually to teach us to be patient and wait for someone to ask us a question. I won't answer unless you ask me something directly. It's something that my mother taught me." Hitomi explained her smile slightly faltering at the mention of her mother.

When Van didn't say anything more, the blonde continued the game, "do you know any games?"

"Not really," the number one rule about the game, Hitomi remembered, was to never ask 'why' because it slowed up the game. Van had asked a 'why' question about something that wasn't related to any question she had previously asked so it was permitted.

"What was your day like when you were a kid?"

Van wanted to flinch, but refused to let her see his reaction. Instead he kept his expressionless mask and answered her with a monotone, "I was constantly being instructed about how to efficiently and effectively rule a kingdom." He was intrigued at her small frown.

"What did you do for fun?"

He couldn't stop a smile from tugging on his lips as he remembered some awkward moments between himself as a child and those around him, "I had friends I would play with."

That answer restored her smile. The rest of the ride was spent with her asking and him answering, only interjecting a question of his own every now and then. By sunset, the couple was shoved off to their own personal fire again.

"Are you sure he won't be upset?" Jill leaned over toward Armand.

"Is she sitting in his lap?" He asked, peeling the skin from one of the fruits they had  
harvested from the local woods.

"No."

"Then he might be. Trust me; this is a recipe for love." He quit his peeling, looked to the sky as if reading a book, and then shrugged. "Or at the very least, lust." With a knowing smile, he added. "One or the other will do, as long as we get an heir."

Jill drew back his fist and punched the presumptuous man in the arm.

* * *

The rain and the sheer need of a bath forced the group to stop at an inn on the third night of their journey. They had reached the other side of the Fanelian woods and the innkeepers bustled about when they heard that it was their King and Queen who would be staying at their little inn.

"Oh!" The chubby woman who ran the kitchen exclaimed with a bright smile. "What an honor it is!" Van gave a small and formal greeting to the people who were nearly fainting with pride at the royal family. "And this is our new Queen?" She took Hitomi's hand and with an even larger smile exclaimed, "my what a beautiful woman! No wonder you married her, sir!"

"Excuse my wife," the male attendant laughed, "we just never thought we'd have someone as important as you in our little town. We've prepared our best rooms for you and your companions."

"Yes! A simply delightful room that has an excellent view, come! I can't show you now, it's being cleaned. But I can show you the kitchen." Hooking arms with the blonde, the lady dragged her through a swinging set of doors, chatting merrily the entire way. After signing in and leaving one of the men to talk to the innkeeper to occupy him, Van went to assist in unloading some of the luggage.

Van bristled when Armand addressed him as they unloaded a few of the lighter trunks that held essential changes of clothes for the couple. Knowing the brunette man for a long time, the raven haired king wasn't so foolish as to not know what the first question out of his mouth was going to be. Armand had never been one for stealth of curiosity.

"What happened?"

"It doesn't concern you," Van replied quickly.

"She stalks off from you in the middle of the night, almost gets herself killed and you don't want to talk about it?"

"She didn't almost get herself killed," Van corrected, hefting a trunk on his shoulder and sloshing through the mud toward the inn door.

"Hmph." Armand's face soured. "Fine. It might not concern me but I'm going to have to put up with the grouch all day." The man muttered under his breath.

* * *

The night had been spent in the bar connected to the inn. It was warm and the locals all gathered to drink and have a good time. The barmaids were on high alert to men who were freely pinching their behinds.

The traveling group had collected in the middle of the room around a large table and spent most of the time telling jokes and wild stories without a care in the world. The king had stayed with them for a short period, occasionally smiling at one of his companions inane comments, but otherwise didn't participate in the conversation. After his men's first round with the liquor, Van made a quiet exit to another table, near the back of the room.

For lack of anything to do, Hitomi had begged to help in the kitchen where she could at least feel useful. Van, naturally, knew nothing of this. If he had, Hitomi was sure, he would have put a stop to it or at the least, Armand would have mentioned how un-Queen like it was to take up the position as a cook's assistant.

She scrubbed the dinged metal plates in the warm, bubbly water with a smile. It was almost like being home back before her father became so quick of the tongue and clever with trade. She and her sisters had rather extensive list of chores to complete before sundown because the family didn't have the funds to hire any help.

Yes, those were the days. When Leiko was still a shy girl, when Hitomi was the tomboy, and when her youngest sister, Ana, was still considered part of the family.

_No_, Hitomi shook her head; _I'll just depress myself again_.

After the first night in the woods, the Queen woke up with a nasty crick in her neck and a guilt filled heart. She was always considered stubborn and tender hearted both had their downfalls. For one, she couldn't help but feel like a child in a grown-ups presence around Van. He hadn't pitched a fit or runaway from his responsibility although he wasn't thrilled with the situation concerning their marriage. He didn't lose his temper and go marching off blindly into the woods, end up lost, and needing someone to help him out.

She wasn't putting him on a pedestal; she was just getting off her high horse.

The carriage had had an uneasy silence, and the tension was suffocating. Hitomi didn't have her sister to ask for help, not that Leiko would have been much help and probably would've suggested making out with Van or something, but she really didn't have anyone to talk to. Armand was first and foremost loyal to his King that much he made clear. It was just by a lucky brush of fate she remembered the question and answer game.

"What's the matter, pet?" The chubby innkeeper asked, brushing a loose strand of Hitomi's hair back from the girl's eyes.

"Nothing," Hitomi answered automatically and with a reassuring smile.

"You're probably tired, why not go into the bar and I'll bring you a bit to eat?"

"I want to help in here though," the woman smiled and shook her head.

"If you're dead on your feet, you're of no use." With a wink, the older woman put a hand on Hitomi's shoulder. "Tell you what, how about you do as I said, and when you're done with your plate, you can come back in here and wash it. Good 'nough?"

Hitomi gave her a genuine smile and couldn't do anything but agree with the woman.

Entering the bar area, the girl scanned the room trying to find an available table where she would be out of the way and unseen by either Van or Armand. She spotted a small unoccupied booth and table situated on the far wall. Walking past half a dozen men, the Queen happily sat down by herself. Picking up one of the cloth napkins on the table, she began to wipe off the bits of debris left on the table top by its last occupant.

Unbeknownst to the young woman, she had caught the eye of more than one man. Her shorter dress was traded for a bar's maid outfit after her clothes had been thoroughly soaked through earlier in the day. The rough fabric of the skirts scratched at her legs but she was thankful that at least the bodice was lined with cotton.

One of the men, tall with dark hair, smiled at his friends as he made his way to the blonde woman. When a large shadow fell over her already dark table, Hitomi looked up with a smile expecting to see the cheerful woman's face, what she saw was a leering, balding man with two dark tuffs of hair on either side of his face, large hands and a funny angled nose.

"Hey there, sweetheart."

_Oh gods_, Hitomi cried in her mind, _why me?_

Without asking and certainly without her consent, the man sat down on the other side of the table. He crossed his thick arms on the table; he leaned forward, and leered at the female with no shame in his hungry eyes.

"How about you serving me?" He licked his lips and Hitomi cringed. "I'd like some personal tender loving care." He snatched her hand and forced his lips into a lopsided smile.

"No. I don't think so," Hitomi tried to pull her hand back but the grip tightened.

"You just like playing hard to get," the man chuckled, moving closer. "I like playing hard, too."

If she screamed like a mad woman, maybe one of the others would hear her and come to the rescue. The man got up, and sat down beside her, his body pressing against her. His ripe smell assaulted her innocent nose, the girl tried to escape by moving further back until she hit her back on the wall.

"I like girls like you," he ran his finger down her cheek, traced her neck, and moved lower. She was about to scream when the man suddenly vanished. She registered a grunt and then a curse. "You bastard! Get your own skirt!"

"I would rethink your actions," admonished a deep, angered male voice. Armand was at Hitomi's side as the other man got into a nasty word battle with the stranger.

"Are you okay, your majesty?" He took her chin and turned it both ways to see if she had been assaulted in a way he wasn't able to see.

"I think so," Armand moved to the end of the booth and looked over his shoulder where the large, thick man had his finger pointed dangerously close to the King. Obviously the man had no idea who he was yelling at.

"I don't share!" The man screamed in Van's face.

"I agree," Van hissed low. "Stay away from the lady."

"Or _what_?" The man smirked, towering over the shorter man. "You gonna do something about it?" With folded arms over his chest, the stranger's eyes begged for a fight to kick the smarts out of the short raven haired man who dared to oppose him.

"Yes," Van growled, his hand itching over the hilt of his sword.

"Then let's take it out side."

"Van! He'll get hurt!" Hitomi tried to get out of the booth, but Armand blocked her path. She watched helplessly as the man and Van made a quick exit for the street. It took about ten seconds for half the bar to follow the two men outside.

Great, just great! She was going to be the cause of Fanelia's destruction after all. Frustrated tears started to pool in the bottom of her eyes. Van was going to get himself beaten into a bloody, unrecognizable mess of a person.

Armand might have been a little off colored and even more than once rude to women, but he was still male and thus hated to see any girl cry.

"My little eccentric Queen," he touched her shoulder gingerly. "The only way King Van will get hurt is if he trips over a rather large object— on purpose."

"Are you _sure_? The other guy is so tall and big and—"

"That man is as slow upstairs as a dead mouse in a rat trap," the innkeeper explained, setting two plates on the table. Hitomi's worried face broke with a silent question and the woman grinned as she wiped her hands on her grease-spotted apron. "For his majesty when he returns. Both meals are on the house." The woman left with a wink.

Hitomi couldn't convince Armand to move so she could see what was going on with Van. A few nights ago she punched him, now she was going to be responsible for his death! Perfect. Great. They really were going to scream 'off with her head!' when the people in the capital city found out.

This was all because her father was too money hungry to continue to build up to his own rather impressive fortune slowly! Or maybe it was her mother's fault for putting the idea to become a merchant in his brain. Whoever was responsible, she was going to swing for it!

"My lord," Armand stated, rather surprised as Van walked up to the table.

Hitomi felt a huge weight lift off her mind as the king, only a tad worse for wear, stood directly in front of the chestnut haired man.

"Are you hurt?" Hitomi asked, catching Van's attention. He noted the food and sat down on his side of the booth.

"No," Van stated simply, picked up his fork he locked eyes with hers. "I didn't do it for you. I just don't like to see men use women like that."

Armand slowly drew away from the table, seeing all the warning signs of a fight brewing.  
All the worry evaporated under her quick, hot flash of temper.

"I was _worried_ about you! The least you could do is drop the tough guy act! You don't have to be rude about it. Playing hero then saying you weren't." She crossed her arms and turned her head sharply to the side.

Armand took another step away from the table.

Van chewed his bite of food slowly, his eyes narrowed slightly. Taking a sip of from his cup, he decided it was best not to say anything. He wasn't playing hero, and he wasn't putting up an act but if that's what she wanted to see than who was he to peel away her delusions? It was better to keep people at arms' length anyway.

Faintly turning her head to see the king better, Hitomi was something of put out to see him quietly eating his dinner. Armand had beaten a hasty retreat not long after Van took his first sip. Sighing, the girl shrugged off the weird 'not-for-you' comment her dinner partner had made and started to consume her own meal.

Knowing that there was going to be no conversation started under Van's will, Hitomi decided to be the bold one again. It had been less than a week since she had started to be the 'bolder' one but it was an act she wasn't use to. Most people, once the ice was broken, eased up and started to open up. Not this black haired royal, he just kept his icy guard solid as if she was going to stab him in the back.

Hitomi stretched her brain for something that would interest him, that hadn't already been asked in the past few days. She'd done most of the learning; he just didn't seem interested in her. With a deep breath, she asked her question. "Does Fanelia have knights?"

Van blinked in surprise and gave his small, amused smile before putting another forkful of meat in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed it before he answered. "Of course, every kingdom does."

"Really? I haven't seen any."

"I find that hard to believe since you were just talking to one," Van wiped his mouth, crossed his arms and gave her his full attention though it didn't look like that to Hitomi. It appeared as if he were only irritated with her.

Regardless of Van's actions, the blonde couldn't help her reaction as her mouth dropped open in surprise. "Who?"

"Sir Armand Decri." He motioned toward the fancy man who was twirling a knife in one hand and a fork in the other, making one of the younger bar maids giggle in encouragement.

"_Him_?" Hitomi couldn't believe it! Sir Armand? The same man who jumped on a chair and screamed for Hitomi to kill a spider no bigger than the size of the tip of her pinky. He literally made her take off her shoe and show its wrinkled and smooshed body before he would step off of the chair. Then threatened her pretty little neck if she told anyone about his episode, Hitomi had flipped her eyes and pointed out that he couldn't even kill a spider how on Gaea was she suppose to be afraid of him. "_Really?_"

"Why else did you think he wore a sword all the time?" Van couldn't help but smile a little at her shock. "I picked him for you because he is less—formal than the rest."

"You picked him for me?" Hitomi echoed, her eyebrows knitting together in the middle of her forehead. "Why did you do that?"

"Because you need a body guard." Van added under his breath, "maybe I should have chosen someone else."

She blinked, not quite sure what to say, then it hit her. "But I was told he was my instructor."

"He's that as well." Van's smile grew a bit as she became flustered over the information. He _had_ chosen Armand because he was sure that the blonde would take less offense and feel less awkward around that knight than any other one. The knight, when told of his duty, agreed to it quickly saying that he could keep a close eye on _all_the maids—what that meant precisely, Van didn't want to know.

"Stick your tongue out at me again and although no one else will see it, I'll kick you viciously in the shins," Armand's voice rose above the rest of the bar's racket and caused the two Fanels to focus their attention in his direction. Jill, who Hitomi figured was probably Sir Jill, snorted and patted the frustrated Armand on the back soundly.

"I think I can understand what you mean," Hitomi glanced at Van, "about him being less formal." With a sharp yelp from Jill, Armand burst out with laughter. "Or he might be a bit insane."

"Indeed."

* * *

"The bed." Hitomi noticed with large eyes when the time to sleep had finally come.

"Yes, that's a bed," Armand helped as he put her trunk in the corner. "I thought you said you were raised in a country manor. I would have suspected that they had beds, or did little lady savages like you only get hay?"

"It's— so _small_!" She gulped.

In Van's chambers the bed was the largest she'd ever seen! It was three times the size it needed to be to fit two people in it. She could do flip flops, back flips, and cartwheels in that bed and never once come close to her husband.

_This_ bed, though, would take both of them sleeping on the edge and being as still as the dead _not _to touch.

"Hmmm, appears we might have an heir sooner than expected." The brunette ducked and made a quick retreat to the hall when Hitomi picked up a hair brush from the vanity and waved it over her head with green eyes narrowed.

Putting down the brush, the female swallowed hard and went to the trunk Armand had put in the corner. Somehow, he said with a little smirk, it had ended up in his room. Hitomi flipped the lid open and rummaged through the contents. Knitting her eyebrows together, she searched through her belongings again. The result was the same, it wasn't here.

She gritted her teeth together, her nightgown was missing.


	9. Wet

**Chapter 9**

* * *

Hitomi slammed the door shut behind her, making Van, who was stripping off his boots while sitting on the edge of the bed, jump. Her blonde hair was sticking up in several directions and her face clearly told of her unhappiness. He'd seen that look on a person before; it was usually before they killed something or someone. That was usually in battle though, so why was she in such a threatening mood?

"What's wrong?" Van's voice made her narrowed eyes shoot over to him.

"Armand," she bit out, "Armand is what is wrong. He took something from me and won't give it back. He won't even open the door and I can't say anything to him because he keeps laughing too loudly for me to be heard."

Van's black eyebrows rose to an arch. Armand was known as a prankster, but he knew where to draw the line. "What was it?"

Her pale skin almost glowed with red as her eyes cast down toward her feet. She found the tips of her fingers rather interesting as they battled each other. "He took my— night clothes."

Then again, Armand could just be a skilled idiot with no sense of decency whatsoever, Van rethought.

Kicking off his boot, Van quietly got up, went to one of his trunks and pulled out a shirt.

Throwing it in her direction, Hitomi caught on her head, draped over her startled face like a curtain. Pulling the shirt off her head, and holding it in front of her, Hitomi's eyebrows rose along with a deeper shade of scarlet.

"You can wear that. It's a bit tight on me, so you can probably fit it fine." Though she could only see his profile, Hitomi noticed the pink blush across his cheek. It appeared that the head strong man was also a bit on the shy side. It was cute in a way.

"Thanks." If she had been in her own clothes, the female would have stuttered and stammered her way into bed with the lie that her day clothes were comfortable enough to wear to bed. Sure she'd smell as fresh as a rotted potato, but at least she have her dignity intact.

"The bathing room is through that door."

_Hint, hint_, Hitomi thought with a small smile.

He didn't want to give her the idea that he was trying to get a free peek. Hitomi nodded and made a quick run into the room he pointed toward. Stripping out of the barmaid's outfit and slipping on Van's shirt, she felt her blush creep upon her face again. It wasn't _so_ long; only hit mid thigh but it covered enough of her legs to make her feel safe enough to be seen in this state of dress.

Running a comb through her hair, and washing up best she could, Hitomi cracked open the door. Van was only a lump on the bed and it matched the lump in her throat. She took a deep breath, slipped through the door, and softly padded across the floorboards to the bed. Butterflies of nervousness swarmed within her stomach and heart.

He wasn't sleeping on his normal side of the bed; he had taken 'her' side of the bed. The bed was tucked in the corner of the room so there was no way else to put it in the small room comfortably, but Hitomi felt anything but comfort.

Gingerly, she picked up the lip of the sheet and brought it a few inches off the bed before dropping it as if it had grown scolding hot. Looking around the room, desperately, she noted that there was no sofa, fainting couch, or anything else she could use as an alternative sleeping area. Then again, she looked down at her bare feet and the wooden planks beneath them, there was always the floor.

She heard Van say something, but she clearly decipher what he had said. When asked to repeat himself, the king turned over to face her, even in the dark she could see his garnet eyes effortlessly.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Van whispered. Hitomi swore she heard something akin to hurt in his tone, but it had been so soft, she couldn't be one hundred percent certain yet again. "You don't have to be scared."

She felt guilt squash the butterflies. Of _course _he wasn't going to try anything. If he wanted to, he could have and that thought made her gut turn to ice. He had the power to do it, had the strength and no one would stop him. She shivered, knowing that he wasn't that type of guy. Or at least he never gave off that dangerous air toward her. An annoyed air? All the time. She breathed in his annoyance and returned it double most of the time.

"Are you going to get in bed or stand there staring at it?" Van asked grumpily, turning his back to her again.

Sighing, she really didn't have to feel any fear toward this man. Someone who was trying  
to lure a girl into bed would be a lot sweeter. Hitomi discarded all her other emotions and settled on the over whelming sleepy feeling that was going through her body. She crawled into the bed, and sighed at the warmth already present.

Soon she dropped off to sleep without a care in her dream world.

Van, on the other side of the bed, was awake most of the night.

What was he thinking when he thought it would be no problem sleeping next to a warm woman, almost close enough to touch, the entire night?

* * *

It had been exactly eighteen days after the wedding, eleven days since they left the capital city, and seven days since Hitomi and Van had talked to each other. The night after they slept at the inn Van had been less than friendly for reasons he wouldn't share with anyone. How could he admit that being so near his _wife_had caused him to be overly aware of every little thing. Every step in the hall, every flicker of the street lanterns from outside the window, every innocent brush of her against his had made it impossible to sleep.

Hitomi, having had a very restful night, was happy and lively so much that Armand had a good verbal sparring partner for breakfast. Van had put up with it.

When six out of the seven men had nasty hangovers, the only sober one had been wrathfully eyed as they reloaded the carriage to continue the journey. The fact the man then decided to sing at the top of his lungs nearly the entire day only added to the murderous atmosphere. There had been dark chuckles as vivid images and ideas about having the singer thrown into the mud and then beat him with empty booze bottles circulated.

Van had gotten a few minutes of rest on the bumpy road, and then she started to talk. She wanted to know something, a simple question neither of them remembered a week later, but it had caused his irritation to sky rocket. He said one thing, she said another and slowly it escalated into neither of them talking to the other.

Armand had been brave or unperceptive to the extra cold climate, and dared to ask the couple why they suddenly seemed so quiet. Van didn't reply, but his icy mask belayed volumes as did Hitomi's up turned nose and crossed arms.

The encampment had been anything but warm, even next to the fire, that night and for the nights following.

Van stared out the window, arms crossed and feet kicked out. His thoughts weren't on anything in particular, but they were there, silently running around causing him to have a slight headache as they clashed with each other.

The thoughts would start familiar such as fighting styles, established trade treaties, and then the lightening would strike.

_"Fine then!" she had fumed, "but don't blame me if you are miserable! It's not my fault."_

Another clash. Another ounce of pain in his mind.

She had looked so upset.

But where did Fanelia stand with its fruit exports?

While on the other side of the carriage, the girl studied the design of the interior woodcuts. The scenery had grown boring and repetitious in the many days of seeing nothing but sparse trees and rolling hills of brown dirt. Of course, there was only so much paneling and wood grain a person could take as well. The knights, as Hitomi discovered they were all knights of Fanelia, stayed away from the carriage should another verbal eruption occur.

It wasn't her fault. She had only asked something innocent and he suddenly became a bull headed jerk about everything. No way did she keep this to herself, she let him know she didn't like his rude treatment and he had replied with something that made her call him a jerk.

Repeatedly.

However, she was bored and her pride wouldn't allow her to yield and be the first to speak. If it meant spending the rest of the trip in complete and utter silence so be it. Hitomi figured she had been the first to start most of the conversations and it was his turn to try, which to her meant she was going to spend a lot of time listening to the stabbing silence.

Van jerked forward as Hitomi hit the back of her head on the carriage wall. The coach had stopped without warning and wobbled to the side a bit.

"What happened?" the Queen asked to no one in particular.

"I don't know." Van opened the door and stuck his head out. There had been a problem with the wheel on the left back side and now the problem had turned into a broken pile of wood. Hitomi sighed as she and Van were asked to step out of the carriage.

"This will only take a few hours your highness," Jill tried to smile but only got two very unhappy looks in return.

"The park around here seems lovely, doesn't it?" Armand remarked offhandedly. "Perhaps your majesties would like to take a stroll why we humble servants fix the limping transportation?"

"I can help," Van offered quickly.

"Nonsense your majesty. We can handle it." Armand gave a cheerful smile, turned, and jumped off his horse to aid the others as they hoisted the box up to clear off the remaining bits of wheel.

Lovely, Hitomi thought, looking around at the same type of landscape she'd been forced to endure for the past few days. Brown with a bit of trees. Shrugging, the girl picked a direction to the left of the road and began to walk.

Van scowled as he watched her leave before setting to go after her. She was headstrong, unpredictable and—and just overly frustrating in general. But what was he to expect? He'd known someone just like her. Not really wanting to be punched in the face again, he made sure she knew it was him.

"Wait." The blonde turned her face to the side, saw him, and came to an unwanted stop.

"I thought you'd want some space," The petite blonde crossed her arms and turned her face away from him.

"I can't let you run around the country side by yourself," Van stated plainly.

Hitomi shrugged and started walking. She had no _idea _where she was going or what her destination was going to be, but she was making great time. It wasn't until a mile or two into the 'woods' that she heard something that made her ears perk.

Van, who had wisely kept his mouth shut the entire adventure, stopped when Hitomi did and recognized the same sound as she. "It's water movement."

"Which way?"

He pointed in a direction and off she went in a near sprint. Sighing, the man silently followed his running bride. When Van caught up with her, she had her hands clasped together in front of her chest with a wide smile on her face. She had a light blush and her jade eyes sparkled like the lake.

Quirking an eyebrow at her strange reaction, Van looked out toward the decent sized lake, though it was probably just a swelled pond, and tipped his head in confusion. It was just a body of water, what made her so happy about it? What, was she going to drown herself? Is that why she was so strangely happy to see it?

As if he would ever let her die on purpose.

Running a hand through his wild hair, he watched as she danced closer to the water's edge. She was about to put her foot in the water when he calmly told her to stop.

"Why?" She had inspected the water, and it didn't seem to be a sewage line from any neighboring house or village. The water was clear and she saw the small fish as they wiggled around under the transparent surface. "It looks fine to me."

"You'll freeze," Van replied. "Those are sun stones over there." He pointed to flat, gray-brown rocks that were under the water on the far side of the pond. "They give off heat so the water around them is usually warmer."

Hitomi looked over and shrugged as she made her way toward these supposed 'sun stones'. She cautiously inserted the tip of her toes into the liquid and, to her surprise, found it a pleasantly warm temperature. A content smile took over her lips as she wadded into the water about waist deep. With her cares forgotten in the flow of the warmed water, the girl turned to the black haired king with her smile and asked. "Why don't you come in?"

"I—," he snapped his mouth shut when he could think of a reasonable excuse, instead of joining her as she continued to walk deeper into the pond, he squatted at the shore side. Spreading his fingers he let the water thread through them.

Van's shock was punctuated by Hitomi's laugh as he had been splashed, rather unexpectedly, by the now laughing female. The front of his shirt and bottom of his pants had received most of the water damage, the garnet eyes quickly went to the amused blonde in the water.

"What was that for?"

"You shouldn't always be so serious. You're face will be permanently stuck in a scowl if you do," She pointed out and Van rolled his eyes.

"No, it won't." His mother tried that trick a million times when his brother and he would start making faces at each other at a formal dinner to help ease the boredom.

"Fine then, how about this." Even with her hips under water, he could tell that's where her hands were firmly planted. "You will look older quicker unless you learn to lighten up. We've both been cramped in that horrid sweat box all day and both of us could benefit from a quick swim."

First she called him old looking and now she was telling him he _stunk?_What a lady. She had been spending too much time around Armand, whether Hitomi was aware of it or not, she started to pick up on his twisted logic.

"No thanks," Van gave her a firm look but Hitomi just sighed.

The blonde slowly made her way back to the bored king. After being splashed he was ready to dash off in a heartbeat to prevent from getting wet again. What he didn't expect was for her to lean down, grab both of his arms and within a second, send him face first into the warm water of the pond.

He came back up sputtering and spitting water.

Hitomi was already in the middle of the pond and swimming far away from him. In between the splashes, he could hear her laughing. His eyebrow ticked, well if she wanted to play dirty, then he could play dirty. In fact it was good they were in the water because they'd need to clean up after he really started to play the dirtiest! Of course, Van thought on reflection that it sounded rather perverted. Shaking off the thoughts, he took off his now soggy boots and discarded his soaked shirt.

"You asked for it," Van smirked as he dove into the pond. Hitomi yelped in surprise when she saw the Fanelian king disappear under the water. Hopefully he knew how to swim—maybe that was it! Maybe he couldn't swim and that was the reason he was reluctant to come in! She was going to be the reason for his drowning!

"Van?" She asked, keeping herself afloat as she splashed around, trying to find him.  
Then something gripped one of her ankles and before she could kick, scream, or be surprised— she found herself underneath the surface.

She shot up from underneath and coughed the water she'd sucked in while trying to scream. Hitomi then glared at the now chuckling King. Apparently, he could swim but who cared? She was going to splash him to death!

"This means war!" She gave her own brief dangerous smile and lunged at him. They ended up in a splash war, both of them swallowing as much water as they pushed toward the other.

Hitomi finally, many minutes later, forfeited when her arms began to burn from overuse.

"Okay! Okay!" She laughed, looking at him with one eye, "you win."

He gave her a small smirk that slowly transformed into a small smile. She couldn't help to notice how, even wet, when he smiled he was extremely cute.

Van's ebony hair was sticking to and hanging in his face. He tossed his head back and forth trying to free himself of the burdensome locks. He tried to blow on it with no luck. Hitomi giggled.

At the sound, Van's focus left his hair to the soaked blonde. She looked really— cute. A blush crept up his face as he took in her cheerful expression, actually daring to study her for an extended time without the worry of his council or Armand seeing it as something it wasn't. It was curiosity, not interest. Surely not interest.

Her eyes were bright, almost meadow green he noted. Hitomi's hair was like the color of the sun, her eyes a meadow—Van couldn't think of what to term her pink lips. A rebel thought wondered if they were soft as a flower or chapped from too many days in the sun.

Hitomi felt self-conscious at his prolonged and silent observation. Did he find something offensive? Did she do something wrong again? Coming a bit closer to him, she took a wild chance and reached out toward the silent royal. Gingerly, she brushed his stubborn locks behind his ear.

At her touch, the king was thrust into another time and place where that gesture happened. Fingertips and her smile haunting him, almost burning as she had whispered to him.

_"I won't hurt you, Van."_

He jerked away at the memory and Hitomi eyes widened. How could he forget? Closing his eyes, Van pushed her away again. Not wanting to get put in that pain again.

Had she done something wrong? _Again_?

Without a word, the king made his way back to the bank, dressed, and turned to Hitomi with his mouth opened as if to say something. Van's stern look dissolved as quick as his blush rose on his cheeks and he jerked his head away.

Hitomi felt dread well up in her, did she say something wrong? Why did he suddenly go from laughing into the silent brooding man?

"I think we need to get back," he suggested, walking away from the shore. His heart was racing. The girl didn't need to do anything else right now but dry off. He kept his back turned toward her the entire time she was behind him. Silently, the couple weaved their way back to the carriage where the other travelers were jaw jacking and yawning.

When the King came into view, they snapped into place, but when the Queen came into sight, the men's eyes went wide.

Armand gritted his teeth. The little hillbilly! Didn't she realize? Deciding to deal with her secondly, Armand reached into the carriage and retrieved Van's traveling cloak.

"I don't think you are being very good right now," Armand said pointedly to each and every gawking knight.

When she came close enough, he draped the cloak around her shoulders and fastened it tightly around her small figure.

"Armand! It's sweltering!" Hitomi complained, trying to shrug off the offending piece of material.

"That it may be, but I don't think you were thinking (big surprise) when you decided to go for your swim, or whatever you did that made you so—transparent."

Hitomi eyebrows rose, looking down at herself, she closed the cape as swiftly as possible and made a mad dash into the carriage, knocking Van in the shoulder at her hasty escape.

Why didn't he tell her that was the reason he was blushing? She was wearing a white dress and white undergarments! Gah! She just wanted to get to wherever they were going as soon as possible! How was she supposed to look any of the knights in the face again?

A deep blush set in when she thought of Van, which wasn't hard considering he was entering the coach. Why hadn't he said anything? Did he think it was funny? Maybe, it was a stretch, but perhaps he was too embarrassed to say anything?

Whatever the reason may have been, Hitomi only wanted to get to Slena as soon as possible!


	10. Slena

**Chapter 10**

* * *

"Welcome to Slena!" A very boisterous woman shouted as the carriage door swung open. Hitomi was ready to leap out of the confinement, but when the lady shouted, the blonde stumbled back into Van. Instinctively he reached out to grab her arms in order to steady her.

They exited the carriage arm in arm as formality (and Armand) demanded; they smiled their thanks to the servants who crawled over the carriage for the luggage much like ants on a dead carcass.

The courtyard was buzzing with excitement. Brightly colored banners were hung from nearly every tree and pole. Those who were bustling around the place had joyous smiles to share and good hearted laughter to fill the air.

"What is the occasion?" Van asked in a cool tone.

"Why!" The same servant woman who originally greeted them puffed up her chest, "Our queen has just given birth to the heir! A beautiful princess!" The Slenaian pride seeped from every pore as the woman tipped her chin a bit further in the air and smile broadened.

"Really? That's lovely!" Hitomi cooed.

From what Van had mentioned to her in last few days the Queen of Slena was supposed to be one of the nicest, sweetest women to ever breathe. Hitomi gave a brief, selfish wonder what people said about _her_. Doubtlessly, Armand would say that the kingdom thought of her as nothing more than a skinny hick who struck it lucky.

"Perhaps then, we should consider cutting our visit short," Van suggested in a kind, thinly veiled authoritative tone.

"Nonsense your majesty! King Coron will be pleased to have as many as possible to celebrate the occasion! The festivities usually carry on for a good fortnight!" She looked over her shoulder and winked at the couple, "a very happy time for couples in general, if I remember correctly."

Hitomi blushed as Van cleared his throat in a nervous manner.

How long did others think it would take for Fanelia to have an heir?Her cheeks, she swore, were glowing red. Van and she had been married for barely more than a month!

So wrapped up in her worries and thoughts, Hitomi became oblivious to the scenery or where they were going until the servant woman cleared her throat to gain the Queen's attention.

"His majesty will greet you, formally, at dinner. Until then," the maid pushed open the double doors and ushered the couple in. Hitomi's eyes widened as Van withdrew his arm from hers. "I hope it is to your liking. We tried very hard to make sure you two were very much at home in the castle." The woman gave a few quick directions and nodded as the other servants brought in the trunks. "I'll leave you two to get settled in then."

Van looked around the room in mild interest. It hadn't really changed much since the last time he was there, only a few feminine touches added here and there. Hitomi's deep sigh caught his attention. Like a cat, she had curled up in the large bed and would have purred if possible from the content look on her face.

"After the last two weeks in that carriage, this is wonderful!" She praise, brushing her fingers over the beautiful coverlet.

Van gave a small smile. She had been—growing on him after their swim. She still wasn't able to look him in the face without her cheeks tinting pink. They had gotten bored enough in the last leg of the trip to try talking again. More precisely, she had decided to randomly pick topics to ease the tension between them.

Turning his attention to the balcony, Van went to take in the view it offered. It hadn't changed much either. Coron gave them the largest room not occupied by a Slenian royal family, as was normal. The stone balcony had a stunning view of the flower gardens that were situated in the heart of the palace. The violets, roses, and various other exotic buds found all throughout the country side of Slena filled the space in a manicured manner.

Coron and he had been friends since their fathers forged an alliance many years ago, right before Van's father passed away. The Slena family was extremely nice to the grieving Fanelians even though the treaty was less than two months old.

_"We are here because we're friends, not allies."_ The Slenaian king had said to Van at the funeral, as the man patted the young prince on the shoulder. _"Let that never change."_

It had been a pinprick of light in the darkness of depression

Deciding that a walk through the gardens would pass the time, Van glanced over at the bed, "Hitomi-"

He blinked in mild surprise. The girl was already completely unconscious on the bed. Shaking his head with a ghost of a smile, he left her in the room and ventured into the gardens by himself.

* * *

Coron watched as the dark haired king retreated back into the room from the balcony. A grin spread across his face, knowing that Fanel probably hadn't changed from his withdrawn, hotheaded, and loner way. No more change than Coron had from being the smiling, trusting, and naïve little boy who first met Van so many years ago.

Well, except they were now both kings over their respective kingdoms and married. Coron smirked, but he was now a father. As if on cue, the small princess squeaked her displeasure over something or another and caught the King's attention.

Quickly going to his daughter, the young men smiled down at his new born who only made a gurgling sound before turning her head to the side and resuming her peaceful existence.

"Is she okay?" His wife, Mena, questioned. The creaks of the bed warned him she was two heartbeats from forgetting her own recovery and tending to her baby.

"She's fine, love. Already back asleep so nothing to worry about." He gave her a wide smile. He saw her nod through the sheer curtains surrounding their bed and watched as she leaned back against the small mountain of pillows.

"How are you?" Coron was concerned about his fragile bride. The birth had taken a great toll on her body and the healers had mumbled, after the fact that they almost lost her twice during the long delivery.

Pushing the veil aside to sit on the bed, he gently took one of her hands and squeezed it lightly. He was very proud of her; she was always so strong without losing the tenderness that normally marked females as fragile. It wasn't like that with Mena. She was sympathetic and sweet, but had an abundance of good sense and knew when to put her foot down. Coron wondered if Van had been so lucky in his bride.

"I'm fine," she gave a weak smile. "Are they here?"

"Yes. Both of them."

Butterflies flew throughout her entire body and Mena felt tears well up in her eyes. "How did you get them to agree? I thought you said that they hadn't accepted any invitations."

With a big grin, the king laughed.

"That's true, but Van and I have known each other since we were knee high to our mothers' knees. He might have come under the guise of treaty, but probably came because we are friends." Leaning down, he placed a whisper of a kiss on her forehead. "You need your rest, my love, and I need to be formal with the guests."

Mena watched as her husband gave the same type of kiss to their petite daughter before exiting the room. The queen reclined her head back and stared up at the canopy of the bed. The fire light made the violet colored shadows dance erratically with the cream of the material in a fun little play of light and darkness.

Closing her eyes, the exhausted woman drifted back to sleep with only one name on her mind.

* * *

Hitomi had been putting the finishing touches on her face when Van came back to the room. Without a word, he snatched up the clothes left out for him, and disappeared into another room.

"Where were you?" Hitomi asked casually. She had been somewhat nervous when she woke up alone. Over the past two weeks in the carriage, camps, and inn rooms she had grown used to his constant presence. A part of her even admitted to finding comfort in it.

Poking his head from the closet he hid himself in, he wasn't sure whether to be amused by her question or annoyed. For whatever reason, he answered. "I was in the gardens."

She turned quickly on the bench in front of the vanity.

"They have gardens?" Hitomi couldn't keep the excitement from her voice.

"Yes," he answered, emerging from the closet. His jacket was still undone, shirt half-buttoned, and his hands fiddled with the cravat that didn't want to cooperate. Growling under his breath at the material, his hands were soon joined by his wife's as she expertly tied the puff of material into the shape it was meant to be in. She brushed off the bits of dust that only a woman could see and smiled up at him.

Van was somewhat speechless by her forward actions, but dismissed it by quickly buttoning his shirt and jacket. She had a light pink tint to her cheeks, still hanging onto the memory of that afternoon were her body had been unknowingly on display through her white clothing. He hadn't known what to say or how to acknowledge her state without getting her mad or something akin to that.

He hadn't been that close to a female, besides Rai and Merle, since he was 16 and all those old insecurities came back up. Shaking his head, Armand made great timing as he came through the door with a big smile. He gave a deep bow, and announced dinner was being served.

Offering his arm to Hitomi, they made their way to the dining hall.

She wasn't an idiot, despite her embarrassing moments. Being stuffed in the same box with the King for three very long weeks, she had come to know his 'cool' look from the 'icy', but this was different.

At the lake he went from happy and relaxed to restrained and on guard. She couldn't remember seeing anyone like this ever before and it made her head hurt trying to analyze him without his help.

_Men,_ Hitomi glowered.

Coron greeted them with open arms and a large smile when they entered the dining hall.

"Van! It's been far too long!" The man gave a bear hug to the now stiff-as-stone black haired king. Hitomi was left in the doorway with a wide-eyed, eyebrows arched expression of disbelief.

"N-Nice to see you as well," Van wheezed, a smile showing up on his face that added to Hitomi's shock. She'd never seen him smile that wide! It was probably the same face Merle got to see, a friend's face and smile. It must be nice.

"I hate to say this, seeing as how this is the first time in _many_ years we've gotten together, but I hope you'll excuse me if I leave suddenly. You see, we have had a recent addition and I'm very eager to get back to both of them." Coron smile full of white, straight teeth that made Hitomi rethink about her own hygiene next to this man's. His thick blond hair and brown eyes gave him and open and honest face. "My wife sends her regrets that she is unable to attend this evening."

"It's quite all right, Coron," Van assured, pulling out the seat for his wife and once she was seated, he too sat down.

"I knew you'd understand. I'm sure you'll be in the same position soon enough," the innocent statement caused both the King and Queen to turn a lovely shade of crimson. "Or not."

Clearing his throat, Van kept the conversation in a safer zone.

* * *

Two days after they arrived, Hitomi was baffled when Coron requested that she visit the Queen of Slena. Mena, as Hitomi found out her name was, had been locked up in her room since her daughter's birth. She apparently was dreadfully tired of being in there alone and being bored. She loved her daughter, but longed for conversational company.

"But why me?" Hitomi asked the back of the maid's head for the twelfth time.

"Because the Queen wishes to talk to _you_," the maid snapped, irritated by the constant badgering.

Hitomi screwed her face into a displeased frown. Well excuse her for being curious, but it wasn't every day some random royalty invited her into their bedroom! Flattening her eyebrows, she decided not to think it basically happened twice in the past month.

"Here we are. Do not forget, she is still weak." With that, the maid swung the door open and gave a stony expression to the Queen. Hitomi entered the darkened room and jumped when the door slammed shut behind her.

Swallowing her sudden nervousness, Hitomi slowly walked closer to the center of the room. Her blonde head turned from one side to the next, trying to find someone who (hopefully) didn't suck blood lurking in the shadows.

"You must be the Queen of Fanelia."

Hitomi jumped at the voice and whirled around to see a veiled woman sitting elegantly in a high-back chair near the fire.

"I'm so very pleased to meet you. Please, sit."

Obediently, the female filled the empty seat across from the other woman.

"I-it's very nice to meet you as well," clearing her throat, she gave a shy smile. "I've heard much about you."

"From the people and my husband no doubt," Mena's hazel eyes almost sparkled with laughter. "Trust me, they wouldn't think so highly of me, the people that is, if I hadn't given them their new princess. Coron, well, he exaggerates," she paused, "a lot. I think it's his hobby, teasing me."

Hitomi's smile came full force and naturally as she leaned back in the chair, comfortable with her, hopefully, new friend. They talked and soon found themselves opening up and laughing like school girls.

Elsewhere on the grounds, Van and Coron found themselves facing each other, both wielding a sword, and dripping with sweat.

"Do you fold?"

Van smirked, "you know better."

Coron grinned, "I suppose I do in some odd ways."

He barely twisted out of the way as Van charged him. "You still aren't charging with everything you have, Van." Coron suggested, and it got a sharp growl out of the black haired royal. With a quick attempted slash from the annoyed King, Coron's grin faded a touch. "Heard it before, right?"

"Every session." Armand offered and had to quickly duck as Van changed his direction and aimed at the brunette. "Seen! Not heard, got it!"

Van glared at his rebellious knight.

"I'm going to fold then," Coron handed his practice blade to Armand who promptly, and rather too gladly, reached out for Van's sword.

Van glowered and Armand quickly retreated to the back of the room where the cleaning supplies rested.

"So, on a more personal note, Van." Coron crossed his arms, his chest heaving slightly from the exertion of their exercise. "Is it true that your marriage was arranged?"

Van made gave an annoyed growl, as he put a hand on the wall and leaned against it. "What about it?"

"Why?"

"I didn't have a choice. I was told I had a bride chosen for me when I got back from a trip." Van confessed, closed his eyes, and pushed himself slightly off the wall in order to sheath his sword.

"That's not the Van I knew." Coron was only a bit more tactful than Armand and Hitomi. "You had someone lined up when I left— "

"_Don't_," Van hissed. "_Don't_ ever mention that to me."

Taken back by the sudden viciousness, Coron's shock overrode his curiosity only to be swallowed up with pity. Van hadn't had an easy life, it was true, but then—then _she _had to happen to him. Shaking his head, Coron gently touched Van on his shoulder that tensed instantly.

Ripping himself from his friend's innocent gesture of compassion, the raven haired man pushed past him and stormed into the hall. It wasn't any of Coron's business, it wasn't Armand's, it wasn't anyone's! _No one_ had a right to know!

"Van?" Came a soft voice that caused him to turn sharply toward it.

Hitomi stepped back from him, seeing his expression. She only wanted to tell him how nice the Queen was and he was giving her the look of death.

Van's eyebrows twitched with another internal battle. _No one. _Without a word to her, he continued his path to the courtyard.

* * *

"What is wrong with you?" Armand, who seemed more interested in the contents of his cup and the specks of dirt under his nails, asked in a should-be concerned voice. Hitomi had been lost in thought, overlooking the courtyard of the palace when the knight shook her out of her stupor. "If you were anymore out there, you'd hit your head on one of the low flying ships."

"What's your point?" Hitomi was rather grumpy. Who wouldn't be if one's spouse seemed to have sat on a bee and have it retained there? In other words, he was being a spoiled, irritable brat and she didn't know why. Hitomi knew better than to ask because all he'd do was give her _that_ look. _Still_, she wanted to know.

"My point is there is something on that wee little mind of yours, and it is my duty to know what it is."

"No, it isn't." Hitomi leaned back against a side of the stone framed window. "You are just being nosy."

"That isn't true," Armand replied hotly. "In case you have missed seeing a mirror in the past few days, you don't look beastly. If you don't look well, then neither do I."

"I thought that if I was looking like a dog, it would make you seem attractive." If it could have been possible, Armand's ears would have flattened backward like an upset cat's.

"You look like something that got cleaned out of a stable. If you look bad, it is my responsibility to find out what and try to improve your looks. Since you are no picnic to work with anyway, why oh why are you making my job harder?"

Hitomi stuck her nose in the air and turned away. "You don't always have to be so mean to me. It wasn't like I asked you to be my bodyguard or whatever."

Sighing, the chestnut, wavy haired man plopped down next to the queen and drew one leg up to his chest. "I know." Hitomi blinked at him in surprise. Was he going to be _nice_ now? "But it's not my fault your stuck with me either, Queen."

Perhaps not.

"So what is it?" Armand questioned again. "Why have you been pacing like a caged neko these past few days?"

Hitomi drew her eyebrows together and slowly closed her eyes. It had been four days since Van had stared at her with that dark expression and since then he had been frigid toward her. He wouldn't be in bed when she fell asleep nor was he there when she awoke. It was like that in Fanelia, true, but Hitomi, for the first time, came to a scary conclusion.

Maybe Van had a mistress?

He was grumpy because he missed her!

Or what if her sister was right? What if it was a _him_!

Her eyes widened in surprise. It made sense to some degree! Maybe the old maid, what was her name? Rai! Or even the neko girl, Merle? She was only a few years younger than Van and treated Hitomi like something found in a litter box! What if it was both?

What if it was _Armand_? They seemed close, too. There were so many possibilities.

Nibbling her lower lip, the blonde tried to construct a list of people in her head of just who it was her husband was missing. Maybe that was the main reason he was so upset with the arranged marriage! Maybe she prevented him from being with his true love! Maybe the laws forbade—

"Ow!" Hitomi yelped. A sharp rap on the head from Armand made her line of thought stop in its spiral from bad to obscure.

"You were thinking weird thoughts," Armand pointed out knowledgeably. "Stop it."

Rubbing the lump on her head, Hitomi couldn't get the possibility of Van with someone else out of her mind. She'd have to ask him. Wait, that was a bit too forward. Perhaps there was a way to twine it into a conversation?

"OW!" Hitomi let out a louder yelp as Armand kindly rapped her on the head for a second time. "Will you stop that!"

"Stop thinking weird things and I will."

She couldn't have picked a better time to ask Armand a question than when he was harmlessly sipping from his cup. His reaction was enlarged eyes, to choke on the wine, spray it out over the floor and himself, and turn to her with a look that was court-jester comical if he hadn't replied with, "What in the seven pits did you say?"

Feeling rather silly, Hitomi laughed a bit and repeated her question. "Is Lord Van interested in men?"

He cleared his throat, and coughed rather harshly. "_These_ are the type of weird thoughts I was trying _prevent_."

"It's just a question." Ah-ha! He wasn't giving a firm no or yes so that always meant yes! It was so simple! So Van preferred guys. Maybe this was Armand trying to protect his king and lover! How sweet.

On second thought, Hitomi shuddered, _eeeewww_!

"You are an idiot," Armand sighed. "King Van is strictly a lady's man." Catching his slip of tongue by the sudden perk in the Queen's attention, he shook his head. "I mean he's a man only interested in ladies, not men."

_So,_ Hitomi's mental detective thought cleverly, _he is in love with a woman_.

It was a slight relief in an odd way to be thrown over for another woman instead of a man. What if it was an older woman though? How weird! How awful to be picked under a granny!

"Stop it!" Armand jumped to his feet."Whatever question is formulating in that little sun-baked brain of yours I don't want to know!"

With that, he took off down the hall—or at least he tried. His earlier shower of wine on the stone floor wasn't dry and the man soon found himself staring at the ceiling while moaning in pain.

Was it ruder to laugh or to step over him and laugh out of earshot even though he would know what she was doing?

She started to chuckle, but was soon holding her stomach and failing miserably to hide it. A laugh at _his_ expense was something she had looked forward to for a long time.


	11. Ana

**Chapter 11**

* * *

"You think he has a mistress?" Mena would have fallen out of her chair if she wasn't for the young princess being held protectively in her arms. The Fanelian couple had been with them for a week. Hitomi, after Armand's little accident, had taken up her time talking with the Slenian Queen. "Why on Gaia would you think that?"

"I don't know." Hitomi confessed, tracing the patterns of the chair with the tip of her finger. "He seems to be okay one moment, but then he completely changes. It's like someone or something else is on his mind, which makes him—hate me," she frowned, "well, _more_." Then her lips lifted into a smile, "so I think he must be in love with someone back in Fanelia!"

Mena shook her head, as she started to rock the tiny princess. "I don't believe that."

"What? Why not?"

"Because I have seen many men, mostly royals, come through here. Trust me. Those who have a mistress or are in love with someone else try to over compensate for the lack of affection they feel for their wives."

Mena slowly got up, walked to the crib, and carefully placed her baby within its walls. After tucking in the small child, she turned back to Hitomi, and picked up a cup of tea that was cooling on the table between their seats.

"So he's _not_ in love with someone else? Then I don't understand." Hitomi pondered, her mental detective scratching her head as much as Hitomi was, "then I guess he just doesn't like me."

"Do you like him?"

Hitomi's cheeks flamed to bright red. "W-what? Of course I don't! It's not like that!"

Mena chuckled, "I think you have some interest in him, otherwise why would you want to know him better?"

She watched as Hitomi as the blonde sipped while her eyes remained averted to the portrait of Coron's mother above the fire place.

"Tell me, are you friends with King Van?"

Hitomi put her cup down gingerly. She didn't have to utter a word, as her eyes fluttered around the room in an innocent way.

"I'll take that as a 'no' then."

"It's not like I haven't tried to talk to him! We had been for a bit but then—" she shook her head, and ran a hand through her blonde locks. "I don't know. I don't know what I should do or even _why_ I want to do anything."

"What's your most precious memory?" The blonde queen's eyebrow rose to a fine arch. Well, that was an alpha level question Mena just asked. "Or something that has sculpted you in some way."

Hitomi closed her eyes as she leaned her head to rest on the back of the chair. Something that sculpted who she was? What would that have been? When? She thumbed through her memories and searched her heart. The closest thing she could come up with was a shrug and sympathetic smile. Sighing, she tried a bit harder, browsing through her childhood memories, her parents, her sisters—her sister.

Her eyebrows clashed in the middle of her forehead as the memories came flooding back. She hadn't thought intently on her baby sister since her parents had declared the girl dead to them. Hitomi had cried for weeks after her sister disappeared. She remembered the last time she saw her sister, and it was _that_ that played in her mind.

_Hitomi had run the length of the farm, turned, and ran back. _

_No Ana. _

_Frantically, the blonde splashed through the puddles that led to the outskirts of the village. It was there, sitting on a fence of the baker's gate she saw the redhead who had her heart gripped in worry. Her normally curly hair was now limp, her head was tilted back and her hazel eyes closed._

_"Ana?" Hitomi called. "Ana!"_

_ The redhead turned to her sister._

_ "I've been looking all over for you!" Hitomi's breath was heavy and every bit of her was nearly frozen to blue. Ana didn't seem effected by the elements, but then again, the younger girl had always been a lover of the rain._

_"I wish I could be the rain," Ana's voice was so heartrending it was no wonder the sky broke down and cried for her. Hitomi stood a few feet to the side her, having come to collect her younger sister from catching her death in the cold kiss of the storm._

_Ana reached out a hand toward the sky, palm up, and fingers spread. _

_"No one tells it whether it belongs to the sky or ground. No one ever makes it feel bad about breaking apart on the soil; they want it to be there. That's why people cry. I don't think people have hearts, Hitomi. I think all emotions come from the soul. That's why, when you lose your love, you feel like dying. They ripped a part of your very essence away from you and say it's for the best."_

_Ana was talking about her boyfriend, Kory, who her family had simply met and declared him unfit for the younger girl. Hitomi didn't see what was so wrong with the boy, sure he snorted when he laughed, but there was nothing else wrong with him. Their father had insisted Kory wasn't 'good' enough for his daughter, that the boy was useless since he didn't have a nickel to his name._

_Ana clasped her hands to her chest as if she were praying, and bowed her head. "What would you do for love, Hitomi?"_

_The blonde blinked, confused at the sudden question. She pushed some of the wet strands from her green eyes before she shrugged. _

_"Anything, I suppose, but I've never been in love so I can only guess." She answered, doubly confused by the small smile that slowly grew on the younger female's face. Ana jumped off the fence, kissed her sister on the cheek, wrapped her in a warm hug, and before Hitomi could register it, Ana had said good-bye._

The vision of her sister running to the village with the rain pouring down around her was the last image she had of her baby sister.

"Ana," Hitomi answered firmly, opening her eyes slowly. "Ana sculpted me."

"Who was she?" Mena questioned, sipping her tea under her veil. Why she wore that thing all the time, Hitomi hadn't found the nerve to ask.

"My younger sister," Hitomi began to explain. "She left us years ago. My family disowned her because she fell in love with someone they didn't like." The Fanelia Queen almost snorted. "He didn't have money and therefore he was considered worthless."

"Did you believe that?"

"No," Hitomi answered quickly. "I think if a person is lucky enough to fall in love and be loved back, everyone should just be happy for them. I just wish my family was a bit different."

_Like completely other people_, she frowned.

"Maybe you should open up to him," Mena suggested, nodding her head slowly. "Tell him the unabridged version of your sister or something else that is precious to you. Put yourself out there for him, it might take time, but it is the first step to earning his trust." Biting back a yawn, the young Queen made her way slowly to her bed. "Every relationship needs trust, even friendship."

"I should go." Hitomi was quick to her feet and ever quicker to the door. With a swift good-bye and thank you, the blonde shut the door. Leaning back on the closed bedroom door, she studied her slippered feet and the tile surrounding it.

Was Mena right?

Ana, Hitomi's heart twisted painfully, she was so precious to her. The two of them had been best friends, only being a year apart in age and done everything together. They were different as hot and cold though. Hitomi loved the sunshine and to run whereas Ana liked cold, rainy nights and to sit for hours observing. The saddened Queen gave a weak smile.

There might be a chance Mena was onto something. What if Van didn't react to it? What if he just shrugged and said 'so what'? She'd be crushed. Was it worth the risk?

* * *

A few days later, Van was able to breathe a sigh of relief. The celebration of the princess' birth was underway and the entire kingdom seemed to be kicking back or kicking its heels up. Sure it would mean the castle staff would have liquor on their breath for a few nights( or longer), but they had a right to enjoy the festivities.

He sat, perched like a bird, on the lip of the balcony watching the glow of the multiple bonfires as they burned just beyond the gardens, in the west courtyard. The music had just started and the volume of its tunes carried over the wall and clear to the King's ears.

A trace of a smile sat on his lips as he lived in the heartbeat of the kingdom. It also proved to make him homesick for Fanelia. If they stuck to schedule, they would arrive back in his home in time for the Fire Festival.

_Deep breaths, deep breaths,_ Hitomi told herself as she walked closer to the balcony.

She had come into the a few moments ago, but the King didn't even flinch almost as though he didn't notice her at all.

"Mind if I join you?"

Van shifted his head to look over his shoulder at her, "no."

That was the only response she got, but what else was she to expect? A love sonnet? Right. She'd die from holding her breath before that happened. An answer was better than being ignored, so she joined him on the balcony.

Van was sitting with one leg drawn up, an arm resting on it as the other leg steadied his position. He was dressed in a red shirt he seemed to live in these days. He had about ten of that type of shirt, she had come to know, but the red always looked the best on him.

She turned, and gave enough of a jump to rest on the lip of the balcony. "Seems like it's going to be some party."

Van's smile grew, as his attention went back to the glowing light and happy sounds coming from the villagers. "Indeed."

Well, this was going to take a very long time to get him to open up.

"Why don't you go down and join them?" Van side glanced at the girl.

"I—," Van couldn't think of an excuse, he wasn't skilled at lying having been taught all his life that a diplomatic answer was as close to a lie as a king should ever get. Now, it was humiliating! "I don't think they would like formality." There! That was a shot of truth without having to tell the real reason why.

"Don't wear your formal attire then, go as you are. No one knows you, so you will blend right in." She was going to add that he should probably leave the sword, but it was his third leg that was only removed when he slept. At least she _thought_ so.

_Damn,_ Van mentally spat at himself. That killed that scapegoat. "I just don't feel like attending."

Hitomi gave a soft laugh, "If that were true, you would be inside with the doors closed." She bit her lip and decided to do as Mena suggested. She'd offer her olive branch, so to speak, of peace. What he did with it was his choice.

"Come with me." Her insides shrunk at her own voice, this was scarier than when she took and not only stained, but ripped her big sister's favorite dress. "Be my escort. Armand is already down there and—"

"Very well," Van's reply was soft and caught her entirely off guard. It was that _easy_? She shouldn't wait too long to get him out there or he might change his mind!

"Then let's go!" Hitomi chirped, jumping from her spot. She turned, grabbed Van's wrist, and tugged lightly to get him to follow. He complied by standing up, but didn't go any further as he was somewhat baffled. When she couldn't budge him, she looked over her shoulder with question in her eyes.

"Don't you need time?" Van asked in a confused voice.

"For what?" She answered, equally as lost.

"For girl things," He pointed out as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "changing clothes ten times, fixing your hair, jewelry—_girl_ things."

If it hadn't been for her mother and sister participating in those 'girl' things as he called it, she would have been insulted. It almost sounded as if she _needed_ a new outfit, to brush up, and all the other things he said. Knowing better than that Hitomi wagered he meant the prissing and primping a lot of females indulged in before another living creature could see them.

"No!" Hitomi gave an amused smile as she pulled him closer to the door. "I was always more of a tomboy anyway. It's only Armand who insists, and wins, when I _do_ wear it."

Van, trailed slowly behind her as his state of shock wasn't letting him go too terribly fast. He couldn't believe it! This girl didn't care about her looks?

How very odd…how very _rare_.

* * *

Hitomi hadn't let go of his hand the entire evening as she walked them around wide eyed and pointed at everything with great interest much like a small child. Van found it amusing how easily pleased she was with the bright colors, common attractions, and the dances.

It was the last part he did his best to keep her from joining in. Van couldn't dance, at least the fast paced, non-formal dances. Van couldn't keep a beat if his honor depended on it. Having two left feet would have been a blessing. Instead Van had one foot that looked like two and couldn't move together successfully without tromping on a victim's innocent toes. He had learned the formal dances, all slow in tempo, for his countries' sake, and that's where the lessons ended.

For him, it was sort of cute the way she wanted to play games then laugh at herself for not bringing money. When he told her he would pay, she had almost climbed up a tree in shock, worry, or _something_. At first she said she couldn't, that it wasn't her money, and she'd feel bad if he wanted something later, but couldn't afford it because he spent _his_ money on _her_.

Van's lips twitched into a lopsided smile at her logic. After reassuring her that he could cover it, she hesitantly took the proffered money. She hadn't won anything and he lost about a handful of coins, which wasn't much. She pouted for a few moments before seeing something else that she dragged him to investigate with her.

They had even run into Armand, a rather soused Armand with ruffled hair and a slight stagger. He had gone on and on about what a great couple they made and he was happy to follow them around until a busty barmaid winked at him. The drunken knight went missing after that.

When it was early morning, and most the patrons had gone home or were passed out, the royal couple made their way back to the castle. However, Van led them into the gardens instead. It was nearly dawn when they made it back to their room, dropped into the bed fully dressed and uncaring. It was the first time all night she let go of his hand.

Inspecting his gloved hand now, two days later, Van gave a slight smile. That hadn't scared him in the least. Maybe there was a chance—

"Your majesty," Jill's voice was deep and calm as he approached his king. "King Coron would an audience with you." There was a subtle hitch in his voice, that wasn't good. It was never good news when one of his knights suddenly remembered their manners. "Something has happened."

"What?"

"He wishes to discuss this in the throne room, sir."

Van was quick to follow; his heart was fluttered anxiously in his chest.

"Have you heard this, Van?" Coron questioned, shifting his eyes to the other King when he entered the room. The entire Slenian council surrounded the man like a pack of dragons waiting to rip apart a live kill (and each other if necessary).

Van's eyes narrowed, "What?"

"A mutual ally of ours, Freid, has just been—attacked," Coron explained in a hushed tone, as if the dust bunnies under his throne were spies for the enemy. "The Duke is beside himself."

"How many were hurt? What was the damage? What happened!" Van demanded, ignoring the plotting dust bunnies and letting his hot-headed way rule over his good sense. "Who did this?"

"They aren't sure. There was no evidence of who it was or why or anything." Coron leaned back in his throne, his eyebrows drawn together with a deep scowl on his face. "And to answer your question, no one was hurt that they are aware of and nothing was damaged. In fact, it was found that only one thing was missing within the whole of the kingdom."

"What was that?"

"Not _what_, Van," Coron sat up in his seat. "_Who_. They, whoever they might be, have taken Chid the Prince of Freid."


	12. Battle of the Sexes

**Chapter 12**

* * *

"Are we sure the child isn't playing a game? Perhaps he is merely hiding, wishing to worry his parents?" One adviser offered, but his optimism was quickly snuffed out by the don't-be-stupid stares.

"They thought that could be a possibility as well, but who ever took the prince had to fight with him. Some of the servants heard screaming and his room was wrecked. They also found traces of blood on his sheets." Coron's voice was strong and unfailing, proof he had _excellent_ tutors growing up.

"I think we should step up security around the princess then." The king nodded and the adviser scampered off like a puppy with a bone to inform the guardsmen.

"Do they have any clues who might be behind the abduction?" Van locked eyes with Coron.

"Whoever it was struck a very poor spot. Freid has many allies, besides us, that are powerful and will sympathize with their plight. When it is found who the transgressors are, they will be very sorry." The king shifted in the throne, the weighty situation hung uncomfortably on his shoulders.

"You never answered my first question," Van pointed out, his eyes narrowed.

"That's because you know it does no good to throw dirt on anyone's name without proof. Slena is peaceful and not military minded like Fanelia, we aren't soldiers. What if we list one kingdom as the perpetrator and they take offense? We'd be put ourselves in danger. It is a danger I'm not willing to put my people in without cause." In other words, Coron had a guess, but refused to say it out loud for fear of being wrong.

Then again, Van thought, it might be fear of being right.

* * *

"Does Slena have close ties to Freid?" Hitomi questioned, generally curious. A few days ago, the entire palace went into uproar and guards were doubled outside the bedrooms, especially where the princess was located.

Mena, who decided to relocate the baby and herself to the large drawing room in the east wing, paced back and forth. She fingered her veil with nervous touches. At Hitomi's question, she paused to think. "Even Fanelia has close ties."

"Van told me," Hitomi replied flippantly. He had been in such a state of-of-_something_ that she bothered him until he gave her a rough version of what was happening. "I guess I'm too new at this, wouldn't it been better for the kidnappers to steal the king if they wanted something?"

Mena sat down in the chair by her baby's bassinet, her eyes held Hitomi in a steady gaze. "You steal a king you only take the kingdom's present, you steal the heir—you take the kingdom's future."

"Oh," she hadn't thought of it quite like that.

"A parent, no matter what their station in life, will always brave any pit of coals to save their child." At this, the Queen gazed at her tiny, sleeping daughter. Without a second's hesitation, the young woman scooped up the baby and rocked her protectively in her arms.

Hitomi was surprised to see her husband come through the door, with his eyebrows raised slightly higher than normal; she guessed he was equally surprised to see _her_ in there as well.

Before he could retreat, Mena pounced. She smiled, stood, and walked over to the king.

"I don't believe you have seen our new daughter, King Van." Mena's eyes had a decidedly determined and dastardly gleam in them, at least to Hitomi.

"Just Van," the black haired king insisted and then tried to move out of the way, but it was no use trying to evade Mena. This was a woman on a mission! She successfully put the napping baby into the tense king's arms. "Uh…I-don't know what to do."

"Show him, Hitomi," Mena smiled behind the veil. "I think I'll join my husband for a few moments, if you don't mind?"

The uneasy atmosphere was broken for the first time since the news was received. Van looked helpless at being in the mercy of the baby's sleeping face. Hitomi smirked. He should try to be around her when she is hungry with a dirty diaper, that'd _really_ make him uncomfortable.

"Not at all," Hitomi assured, having figured out what Mena was trying to set up. With the baby in his arms, Van would have a hard time taking off if he felt apprehensive. She smiled and could have sworn she saw Mena wink as the woman left the room.

Van awkwardly held the baby, who was started to make unhappy noises at the inexperienced baby-holding male.

"Here," Hitomi's hands gently touched his upper arms. He couldn't tense up anymore at her touch or his muscles would have exploded. "You shouldn't be so scared, she doesn't bite. She doesn't even have any teeth yet."

Readjusting his hands and informing him to calm down because relaxed muscles were nicer to lie on than flexed, hard ones. Van panic subsided when the princess stopped her noise making and slipped off into another sleep.

"Where did you learn this?"

"From my little sister, she loved to help the midwife in our village with the newborns." Hitomi looked up at the face of her husband; his eyes were locked on the round face of the small heir.

"Ah."

There it was again, that sweet shy smile. Hitomi couldn't help but give her own smile.

_This _is the side of Van, what she considered the _real_ Van who she so desperately wanted to know. How could she say that though?

"You don't have to stand. You _can_ sit," Van glanced around the room and Hitomi could visibly see his discomfort as he sat down on the couch. Biting her lip, the girl sat down close to her husband. This was, she insisted to herself, was only in case he needed help. That was _all_.

"How is the king?"

"Beside himself."

Hitomi's shoulders dropped. She had hoped, vainly, that things were getting better.

"He's worried because Freid is an ally, and if they go to war with whoever did this, Slena will have to as well."

"You'll go to, won't you?" The question popped out without her thinking about it. Van nodded slowly, and something small broke in her heart.

"Why?" Hitomi's father's family was so poor that the eldest son had gone into the army, only to die a few months later in a minor struggle over some vineyards. He had only been seventeen at the time, her grandmother never recovered from his death.

"Because it's a contract but," Van gazed down at the tiny girl in his arms, "if something should happen like this to Coron and Mena, or to _us,_ we'd want their aid."

"Oh." Hitomi responded, her heart fluttered at his mention of the two of them as 'us'. There was hope. She felt guilty though, having hope of her future when the poor child, Chid, was missing.

"That has to be every parent's worst fear," Hitomi mumbled under her breath. An idea struck her and without really going over the smartness of the question, it darted off her tongue. "What is it you fear most?"

Van's rocking stopped as if he slammed into a brick wall. Hitomi's brain gave her sensibility a swift kick in its rump. Her green eyes grew in shock at her own stupidity. How could she ask him something like that! She opened her mouth as he turned his face from her to the little princess in his arms.

"Y-you don't ha— "

"Losing my kingdom," Van answered, his eyes never leaving the baby, "failing the people who depend on me."

Hitomi felt her cheeks fade from hot to warm with his answer. He _actually_ answered a personal question! This was a big improvement!

"Do you smell something?"

Apparently the princess wasn't too fond of tender moments.

* * *

"Hasn't he shut up yet?" The angry person snapped out.

"He's scared," came a softer, feminine voice.

"So what? He's ten, not five. Tell him to be a man." The owner of the harsh voice insisted.

The sound of footfalls clicking angrily away from the door filled the silence, and faded into the distance.

Chid started to shake in fear. If it was the harsh voice who had stayed, he in for another painful night, but if it was the _soft_ voice—

"Are you there?" The softer voice called out to him.

Terror. Chid felt dread like no one could describe. He would have climbed the wall, kicked it until there was a hole, or until his legs were broken. The harsh voice was predictable. The harsh voice had hard hands and a stone heart.

The soft voice was more lethal, silent, and deadly. It was _that_ voice who tricked him. It was that touch that made him cry out in the night. He wanted his Daddy, what he wouldn't do for his daddy!

"There you are," the voice purred, caressing Chid's round cheek before there was vicious slap to his face. He cried out as his head connected with the brick wall in a _snap_.

The soft-voice merely chuckled.

* * *

Sweat poured from every gland on Hitomi's body. She jolted straight up in bed and listened to her own heavy breathing and the pounding of her heart. Her arms trembled with the high-alert her nerves were on.

"Hit-Hitomi?" Van's sleep rasped voice made her nearly jump on the ceiling. Grabbing the sheet, she pulled it close to her chest, and drew her legs to her until she could cross her arms and tuck her head in the confines of the self-made ball.

"Hitomi?" Van had been jarred from his deep slumber when his ears picked up the hard breathing. With the quick and sudden movement that followed, he was thrust back into the world of the conscious. Rubbing his eyes, trying to get the blurry sleep vision to clear up, he saw the slim back of his wife shake as if she were laughing.

Reaching out his hand, he gingerly placed it on her shoulder. She wrenched away from his touch and Van withdrew his hand quickly after her reaction. He should have known better than to think—she didn't care. He hefted himself up to a sitting position, leaned back on his arms allowing the sheet to fall to his waist.

There was no way he could ignore her in this state, but she flinched at his touch. Was he that disgusting to her? Sighing, he slanted forward and tugged hard on the sheet. With a yelp, the girl turned to the tugger and as her large, wet eyes locked on him, she hiccuped.

"Why are you crying?" He asked, forgetting briefly she rejected him, leaned further over, and touched her shoulder again. She didn't jerk away from him this time.

"I-I had a night mare." Hitomi felt a bit silly telling him this, he was always so strong, no matter what, and she let a little dream disturb her world. "It was—about the missing prince."

"We've been talking about it so much; I could see how it would cause you to have dreams about him." Van explained, he tried to stifle a yawn, but failed. Hitomi drew her attention back to the opposite wall, facing away from the dark haired male.

He leaned back and crossed his arms over his stomach. "Dreams can't hurt you." Van saw her nod, and then closed his eyes.

"I know it was just a dream— but I'm still scared," she whispered. The image of Chid shaking, crying out for his father was so strong in her mind it was as if she had _been_ there. Whimpering, she curled herself into a tighter ball.

"You don't have to be afraid," Van reassured her, his voice growing softer with every word. "I'm here…" The rest of his statement was lost as his voice mingled with his exhaling and was lost. Either he was a good faker or he was just that tired.

Hitomi was afraid to go to sleep, what if she had another dream? But if she didn't get enough sleep, she wasn't the most attractive thing to look at (as Armand would constantly remind her). Gulping down a large breath of air, the girl slowly reclined back to her original spot.

Van was right, he was there. She turned her head to see his sleeping profile. The fear in her heart crept away a few inches as a peace came on her. He was there, he'd protect her. Feeling a little better, she reached toward his arm, but stopped a few inches short. Biting her lip, she withdrew her hand back to her side.

Closing her eyes, she prayed for a dreamless sleep.

* * *

"We _have_ to have the naming ball." Mena was a bit frustrated with her husband at the breakfast table when, after a week after Chid's kidnapping, Coron had announced they were going to cancel the traditional ball. "What message would we be sending to the people?"

"That we care about our daughter," Coron stared evenly at his wife, his face set in a stern expression. The two guests watched the couple as their calm argument proved more entertaining than anything they could talk about or the food currently growing cold on their plates.

"But we shut the people out. They have celebrated her birth for near two weeks! We can't just close them out now!" Mena's eyebrow began to tick as she glared at her husband. Her face was as legible as book; it screamed 'I married a stubborn mule'. If it had been possible, the woman would have bare fangs had she had them.

Coron sighed heavily and put his fork down with barely constrained anger. It was hard to get him upset, but once he was he tended to become something of a thick-headed, Neanderthal. "Mena." He bit out.

"Don't even think you're going to get your way with this. These people don't deserve to be punished for something that they didn't do." Mena growled.

"I agree with Mena," Hitomi spoke up.

Armand, who had been silently standing next to his liege, choked on the air in his throat and half hoped to black out.

"Why shouldn't the people be involved? Won't you just make them mad at you if you don't?" Innocent enough assumption, but even Van's drink was held up half way to his opened mouth in surprise.

Coron switched his attention to Hitomi, Mena's smile of triumphant went all the way to her eyes as she snapped her attention to Coron. "See? Another _Queen_ agrees with me."

"I can't allow this to happen for reasons you wouldn't understand." Coron waved both of the women off, Hitomi 'humphed'. Mena, on the other hand, did a bit more.

"I—I wouldn't understand?" She drew out, slowly rising from her seat. "I _wouldn't_ understand?" Hitomi felt like a small child witnessing her parents fighting, her first instinct was to crawl under the table and plug her ears while mom and dad became a little less of a gentleman and lady.

Van was strangely curious. His parents never fought, or if they did, they did it in another wing of the castle. It was like seeing two strong armies slowly pull their numbers together and go into a head first collision.

"Mena, there's no need—," Coron's eyes stared steadily at the enraged woman.

"Don't forget they can smell fear." Armand muttered under his breath, thinking only Van could hear. Van nodded and Hitomi, who overheard, picked up a roll and threw it at him. That didn't even faze the other couple.

"Did you forget where I came from? Do you think I'm too uneducated to understand that _our _child could be next? I _know_ that, but I also know that hiding away is only chickening out! I'm not a coward, though you might be!"

Coron snapped to his feet, grabbed his wife by the wrist, and stormed both of them out of the room.

"Wow," Armand whistled, and plucked up the roll that had been thrown at him.

"Armand, excuse us for a moment," Van requested patiently. Hitomi's fear factor fever pitched. Armand was curious, but nodded and left, munching on his roll.

"Is something wrong?" Hitomi asked, nervous the tension from the other couple had seeped into their already fragile relationship.

"I know you probably don't realize this but," Van's eyes seemed to burn red in the morning sunlight, "you are _not_ to interfere with another person's decisions; especially when it is a decision about their kingdom, policies, or personal relationships." His voice was in the icy tone that he normally took when letting the person know that there wasn't going to be an inch given.

Hitomi was stumped, but not for long, "I only gave my opinion—"

"It wasn't asked for," Van retorted, as he placed both of his hands palm down on the table. "You shouldn't have interfered."

His words wounded her feelings, and when threatened she fought back. Just as Mena did, Hitomi shot to her feet, gave her husband a proud look, and said "I'm sorry. I forgot I'm just a merchant's daughter, and some sort of trophy wife who is to be seen and not heard. Forgive me, my king."

She turned and hared out of the room, praying to get to the bedroom before her eyes started to let the tears fall.

"That went well," Armand observed, strolling back into the room through the door the queen left open.

Van, who had been staring at the table rather sternly, gave Armand a glance before he too jumped to his feet, and made his way out of the room.

"I hope you're going to apologize to her, sire," Armand advised, munching on a slice of fruit.

Van gave him a steady look from the hallway before breezing down the hall.

Taking in the large, mostly untouched, breakfast left in the dining hall, the knight smiled like a hungry cat. "Appears I get a buffet today!"


	13. Rain of Nightmare

**Chapter 13**

* * *

"Women," Coron muttered as he downed another drink.

Van nodded, but didn't indulge in the same type of drink as his friend. They both had been given the cold shoulder from their wives. Mena wasn't happy about the supposed cancellation of her daughter's naming celebration, and Hitomi was angry that she was, well, basically told to shut-up.

Armand tagged along with the kings after having the door slammed in his face, and told by his Queen she had no need for a male person in her presence except to hit and blame. He made himself too busy the rest of the day to hang around.

"She was so upset she threatened to name my daughter 'Infant' until she gets the ball," Coron sighed dejectedly. "I guess it is better than some of the names she _could_ have chosen."

Van was nowhere near as bad a spot. Hitomi had been furious, but sooner or later she'd get over it—he thought. Never having been on the extreme side of her temper, he was treading blindly through uncharted territory.

"There isn't much we can do," Van tipped his juice around in his cup, watching the pulp slosh around the bottom. There wasn't much he _wanted_ to do. The ebony haired king knew he was in the right about this; it wasn't another person's place to tell a king how to run his kingdom. However, he had come to find out from visiting many females as potential brides; women hardly ever cared what was right or wrong in regards to a fight as long as they were apologized to later.

"You can say they were right and give them what they want," Armand offered.

Coron snorted, Van just stared at the other blessedly single male. Perhaps he was drunk, after the incident a few years ago Armand was rather heavy handed with the liquor. Too bad for him it took a great deal to get the man soused.

"Why?" Van inquired. He wasn't sure what he would have to do to get Hitomi to unlock the door to the bedroom. All of his clothes were in there and he was sure to start to smell without changing them daily.

"Because if you give them what they want you _do_ have to swallow a lot of smugness from them, but on the other hand, you get certain—_rewards_."

Coron's eyebrow rose. Van cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"Imagine how grateful they will be to have such an understanding husband; they'll cling to you like a shirt to a sweaty bar maid."

Van sighed; the man sometimes had the most unintelligent ways of expressing himself.

"Sounds like you speak from experience?" Coron prodded gently. Armand made a noise in the back of his throat, not agreeing or disagreeing to the question. "What good would it do to give into her when I wouldn't before? Mena will know. She always _knows_."

"She might be too happy to care why," Armand suggested after a few minutes.

Van excused himself shortly afterwards, not wanting to be responsible for any of Armand's insanity. What was worse was that Coron seemed to be slowly buying into it. If the castle ended up pink or something just as ridiculous, Van wanted his hands to be clean of the crime.

* * *

It had been two days since the minor explosion between both married couples. Van, not wanting to have the door slammed in his face as it was in Armand's, didn't try to get into the bedroom they were staying in. Oh, he could have tried, but when he heard her crying on the other side it injected his heart with a weighty guilt.

As he strolled down the hall, with no where really to go, the king felt out of place. He'd received the morning reports from his kingdom and everything wasn't falling to ruin without him. The councilors advised him to relax and enjoy his final week of honeymoon before he returned to Fanelia.

What was to enjoy when his wife lorded over him like a mad woman?

Coron had mentioned that it was a conspiracy. Women were trying to drive every man insane in order to become the high rulers of all Gaia.

Van had snorted at that idea.

With nothing save walking to do, the king decided to examine the gardens again. If he could, he'd make a copy of the park and put one in Fanelia, but his worrisome mind would never let money be spent so frivolously on a personal desire.

There was a light fall of rain, but considering he hadn't been able to change into his clothes and bathe properly, some rain might help disguise any smell that was ripening on him. Running a hand through his wild and damp locks, the king stood still in the middle of the path, and allowed the sweet droplets to kiss his face.

The sound of a light tap on one of the stones caught his attention. Sliding his eyes over to where the noise oriented from, Van made sure his face was blank, but his expression switched to surprise when he saw Hitomi's hastily losing herself in the garden.

It was either now or he'd start to grow something unnatural on him from lack of bathing.

"Hitomi," he called out, his feet taking the same path she went down. She either heard him or figured he wouldn't follow as she came to a stop by the tall, thick peach trees.

Her heart leapt in her chest in embarrassment at the sound of her name. She had been simply wandering around, loving the feel of the rain and sweet scent of the flowers when she saw him.

Van's eyes were closed; chin tipped up faintly, and lost in some semblance of peace that usually escaped him. He never had been more handsome than he did with the rain dripping down his face and fingertips. Hitomi was so entranced, she had taken a step forward unconsciously, and the noise it caused snapped the spell he was under.

She had felt her cheeks flare red, just seeing him like that made her forget about the anger. The ire had faded when it was over powered by—something. It was that unknown _something_ that made her turn and walk away.

It was a realization over that same _something_ that made her stop.

"Hitomi?" Van's hand touched her shoulder lightly and the girl nearly crawled up a tree in surprise. She turned her eyes to him. Those garnet colored eyes said it all. He was ready for a fight. Anything she could have pushed at him, he would be ready to handle.

"I don't have anything to say to you," she stated without much conviction.

Van sighed.

"Before you say anything, I'm not mad anymore about what you said. Mena explained it to me, very thoroughly, and I just want you to know that I'm only upset because you didn't say it in a better way," she confessed softly just as she had rehearsed in her mind over the past few days.

"I could have approached the subject in a different way, yes," Van admitted.

Hitomi wanted to faint at his words. He agreed! Just like that! What was he up to? Or better yet, had Armand talked him into?

"You'll get sick if you stay out in the rain too long," the man lightly admonished.

Hitomi wished to call him hypocrite, but she called him sweet inside her head instead. "What about you? Don't tell me that you are tough enough to not get sick."

"I can't get into the bedroom to change."

Ah, that's why he was being sweet, it was a set up. She smiled and shook her head.

"Then walk with me," she turned and started down the peach tree path. The trees acted as a partial guard against the rain as the couple passed under their branches and leaves. Hitomi decided to ignore his perceived rudeness from a few days ago for the peace between them and his presence. Her mind went blank when he quietly reached out and threaded his fingers between hers.

They didn't say anything and neither of them had the nerve to look at the other.

It wasn't an apology, it was better.

* * *

"I _knew_ he'd listen to reason," Mena crowed as she brushed her red hair. "He said we could have a ball, but made it so we could only have _royalty_ in the castle. The main courtyard will be for the villagers," she turned, her veil securely in place.

Hitomi smiled at the excited woman as she cooed over all the plans she had arranged to celebrate her daughter's life and name. The blonde nodded and gave her opinions when asked, but her mind was chased away somewhere else. Without being able to explain it, she was confused. One moment she was fine, the next, she couldn't keep her feet on the ground, and her mind was fluttered away to another place.

"Did you have some bad fruit?" Mena's question was a direct one, shaking the girl out of her stupor.

"No, no I'm fine."

The Queen lifted an eyebrow.

* * *

Van tugged at his collar, irked that he was once again dressed in the formal attire of his kingdom's colors. Not that it was a disgrace, but everything felt itchy. Only thinking about this outfit left him with the need to scratch.

"Where's Rai when I need her?" He muttered, fumbling with the puff around his neck. This had to be the worst part of the whole outfit, the darn cravat. After many failed attempts and barely concealed curses, Armand walked in with all smiles and hair and declared the Queen was ready.

After fluffing the annoying fabric around his neck, Armand was off like a bee to the nearest rose garden. The knight tingled with anticipation. Not only was the Queen so distracted by whatever was currently bouncing around her petite head that she didn't argue with him, he also got her into the lowest cut dress in her wardrobe.

It wasn't supposed to be his duty to ensure an heir, but he was worried with all the fighting that there would be no heir. Two of the most stubborn people ever to have been born on Gaia, and they were supposed to breed.

He shook his head, rolled his eyes, scrambled down the steps, and into the greeting hall where he breathlessly reported that the couple was to make an entrance soon. Most of the other attendees were already filling the main hall that there was hardly standing room left.

Since Armand was a visitor and friend of the royal family, he was allowed to stay around but had to stay out of the way. Out of the way meant by the dessert table to him, and that was just _fine_ by him. When the couple made their appearance, the crowd hushed. When the royal family of Slena came gracefully down the steps, applause thundered in the marble structure. Then the young princess started to wail in protest to the noise, people chuckled and laughed at her 'cuteness'. Armand snorted, it might be cute if one didn't have to hear it for two weeks straight.

"Sir?" Armand turned his attention to Jill who was the personification of nervousness as he shuffled from one foot to the next.

"What? I have cream on my face or something?" The brunette chuckled at his own joke, but Jill didn't laugh. That wasn't good, Jill was a person easy to make laugh or perhaps a good brown-noser, but this time he didn't laugh. That meant it was serious trouble. Putting down his cake, the senior knight turned to the novice. "What is it?"

"S—_she's_ here."

"You'll have to be a _bit_ more specific, as you can see there are a lot of 'shes' around here."

"Look to the stairs."

Armand sighed and glanced in the direction the younger knight had instructed. It was a good thing he wasn't eating or he'd have chocked and died on the spot.

"Did anyone tell the king?" Armand's voice was barely above a whisper.

"No, sir. We didn't think it would be wise to—"

"Don't tell him," Armand commanded, and marched boldly across the floor toward the woman.

In an ice blue dress, there stood in all her glory, the living nightmare of Fanelia.


	14. Missed Target

**Chapter 14**

* * *

It took all Armand's will not to be a complete gentleman to this supposed _lady, _but in truth he wouldn't mind ripping her dress and yanking her hair like a school girl in a cat fight.

"Milady," he bowed to her, rolling his eyes behind the hair that fell in front of his face.

"Sir Decri," she responded in a tinkling voice. She was truly beautiful, if one overlooked the shallowness and corruptness. Regardless of his thoughts, his smile was convincing as she held out her hand to him. He hated this woman with a passion that should have made him burst into flames. "Always a pleasure."

"And the pleasure is always yours," he gave a small kiss on the back of her hand, which she snatched away. Must have been his comment, he mused. "A lady like you shouldn't hide near the staircase." He offered her his arm.

The woman was slow to take it, but knew that manners would demand nothing less than her best.

"How is your lord?" The tone of her voice, it was as if she knew what Armand was up to. He'd do anything to keep her away from Fanelia and the Fanels.

"Wonderfully happy and loving every moment of his _marriage_," Armand crowed. "The new queen is _the_ most beautiful creature to ever have grace the King's presence."

"I see," her grin matched the coldness in her tone. "I heard he was reduced to marring a commoner." The ice in her voice was steadily, and alarmingly warming to a sweeter infliction. "I really must congratulate him."

"You know the address to the Fanilian castle, send a card," Armand offered, smirking as she glared at him. "I must say that this blue is a nice color on you."

"Oh?" She purred, as he led them to the most crowded section of the hall. He had a good foot in height on her and was able to look over most of the people in an attempt to find Van to make sure _she_ didn't.

"Yes. It brings out the bags under your eyes."

She ripped her arm away so fast he was sure she'd taken part of his coat with her.

"I am not accustomed to being talked to in such a _rude _manner," she stuck her small nose in the air, turned to another, and began to chat.

Armand smirked. She wasn't used to being talked so rudely to _her face_ he was sure.

Once she was settled into the throng of royals and ambassadors, the knight made a immediate escape. He had to find his king and quickly.

* * *

_"_See, my dear," Mena cooed at her baby while addressing her husband, "not a_ single_ thing has gone wrong. The people are happy, as am I."

"Yes, dear," Coron replied automatically, but his thoughts weren't as nice. He kept thinking about how he'd be just as happy had he gotten his way and an apology as well. Van and Hitomi had been silently stealing glances at each other and Mena would beam with girlish glee if she noticed it. Only rarely would the couple whisper back and forth to each other, one would smile or laugh, and then the quietness would come over them again.

"Why don't the two of you enjoy a dance?" Mena insisted. "The band is the best and there is no reason not to!"

The Slena couple was eerie when both of them smiled and nodded their heads at the Fanels. Hitomi, upon seeing this slightly scary sight, grabbed Van's hand, and led him down the steps. Van didn't utter a word of protest as she took him to the dance floor, and turned to face him.

Her cheeks went pink as she awkwardly made motions to put her hands in the proper places. Unaffected by the environment since he had been raised in it, Van quickly placed his hands where they needed to go for them to join the rest of the dancers and not act as some sort of side show attraction. He was curious as she jumped at the contact and seemed coiled tightly with nerves.

They smoothly joined the dancers, both schooled to dance though Hitomi never had a reason to use it until she was married and crowned. Van had practiced many times since the girls saw him as a male, as a _prince,_ and most importantly, as a quick way to a better social standing. He used to grumble about it before and after the parties, but like a good little prince he put up with each and every well-to-do daughter that breathed within fifty miles of Fanelia.

As long as the songs and dances were _slow_.

Then after everything that occurred, he just stayed toward the back of the room, almost glowing with cold warning. None of the girls would come near him; he was surprised how much of the news had gotten around back then.

Dancing with his wife, it was a new kind of comfort in a very political way. He didn't have to worry about having drooling, marriage-hungry women hounding him like a bone in a dog kennel. Hitomi was there with her charm and looks to make sure that all the single girls kept their distance from him.

Though, rumor had it, that didn't stop a good number of them. Let the girls get on the wrong side of Hitomi's temper! They'd learn quick! First, she would have to be jealous and wasn't there a law somewhere that if a person got jealous, they liked the person that they felt those things over?

Did Hitomi even like him? True they didn't try to verbally claw each other's eyes out anymore, but that only meant they'd learned to tolerate each other, not necessarily _like_.

Did he like her? Did he like her like_ that_?

Across the room from the dancing couple, Armand frantically searched for the blue gown he'd been so sure to keep an eye on for the majority of the night. She had proven to be a slippery devil and that damned blue turned out to be far more popular than should be permitted by the fashion conscious.

He cussed under his breath, and then received a sharp slap across the face from an elder royal who called him a disgraceful servant. After giving a sound apology (only because he got caught) he scampered away after the first light blue ball gown he saw. Either he was a lousy blood hound or the woman had gotten better at hiding.

Armand had made good two rounds only stopping to take a swig of wine from one of the passing servers. That wicked witch was nowhere to be found. Maybe she was in the lady's room with an upset stomach? The knight scoffed at his own joke. Unless she fed on the unsuspecting heart of a virgin, she probably would remain hungry. The only girls in the restrooms would be the young royals worrying about their figures and sticking their fingers down their throats.

As he passed a certain pillar, so did the tip of an ice blue dress. The wearer of the dress smirked, and locked eyes on the target before brushing back her long hair and starting toward her intended destination.

Unaware of anything else but the tempo of the music, Van had to act quickly to hide the surprise when he felt a slight pressure on his shoulder. Turning around, so he and Hitomi had come side to side he laid eyes on a woman he hadn't seen in ages.

"Van, _darling_," purred the overly perfumed, middle aged woman as she lurched forward to trap the young king in an awkward hug.

Hitomi's eyebrows rose in question as Van's face started to turn red at the overly long embrace. Prying her off of his person, he set the lady back and took Hitomi's arm through his and bowed slightly.

"Duchess Frost," Van introduced in a voice a note higher than before. "Allow me to introduce you to my wife, Hitomi."

"Oh, poo. You've been taken off the marriage market?" She ran a finger up his sleeve and drew closer again.

Hitomi felt the muscle under her eye twitch in annoyance at the blatant display of—of whatever that woman was doing! Her grip on her husband's arm tightened as she repressed the urge to growl at the too friendly woman.

"Lady!" Armand's voice called, as he raced to join the group.

"Sir Armand," her eyes lost some of their brightness. "It's such a _pleasure_ to see you yet again."

He bowed low to her, and with a huff, he gently took her hand and kissed it. "Likewise I assure you."

The knight saw the obviously distressed and irked look in the young couple's faces and before he could form the next few words, the band started a fast, loud song to play.

"Perhaps we should speak someone a bit quieter?" The lady suggested, hooking arms with Van. "After all, the trade treaty is about to expire and I am _eager_ to refamiliarize myself with _all_ Fanelia has to offer."

When asked to come, Hitomi felt her cheeks go red. As much as she hated to admit it, she felt jealous. The emotion shocked her and one of the ways to deal with shock was to run away or in this case, let it walk away.

"N-no! I'm sure the two of you have plenty to catch up on!" She gave her best smile and Van raised an eyebrow, but took her at her word.

Armand looked at his Queen, one of his own eyebrows spiked. "What's the matter with you?"

The blonde had an almost lost look on her face as Van disappeared out of the ball room and into the hall. She'd never had to suffer through one of these long and tedious celebrations by herself. Well, she _did_ have Armand but when she glanced up again, all she saw was him retreating.

Great. Now what was there to do?

She saw the answer a few yards away. The wondrous and over flowing with sugary goodness arrangement that was known as the dessert table! With renewed energy and a brighter smile, she made her way like a kid to a bakery. Once there, she popped in one cookie and took up four more. With Armand doing whatever he was doing, which didn't consist of badgering her, she was free to eat whatever tooth rotting goodies she wanted.

As a gaggle of giggling girls drew closer, Hitomi snatched up a plate with a slice of cake on it and dodged behind a pillar. Normally she would be more than glad to join them in their laughter but there was something about a queen shoving cakes and cookies in her mouth (and probably leaving chocolate smears on her face and dress) that made it less socially agreeable.

They talked actively about the many young, handsome, and ridiculously rich gentlemen there was to pick from this year. Talk like this made Hitomi sick to her stomach. Money hungry females tended to give a lot of good girls, such as herself, a really bad reputation.

"But can you imagine," one girl in green sad rather hotly, "commoners coming in and taking our men away?"

"What?" A pink girl asked, forgetting her half eaten tart in her gloved hand.

"Didn't you hear? Not only was the queen of _this_ country a _stable girl,_ but also Fanelia's queen is a dirt poor rent-by-the-hour woman."

Hitomi felt herself turn to stone. What were they saying! How could they say that? None of them knew her and they were making judgments about her! She wasn't anything like they said! Not at all! Hitomi had _always_ valued her reputation and strove to be respectable in society.

With her family it wasn't always easy, but she had managed.

"I heard that she got pregnant and blamed the prince in order for him to marry her," a snotty voice replied.

Her appetite grew smaller and smaller as she listened to them ruthlessly tear her down, spilling out rumors like filth from the plumbing tubes. She wasn't sure what to do, but stand there and shake. Her food forgotten, she felt the tears of humiliation building up behind her eyelids. This was pathetic! Normally she would put those presumably pompous princesses in their place by a few well chosen negative comments of her own. The only thing that stopped her was the voice faithfully reminding her that she was a representative of Fanelia.

Imagine what would happen if she was to storm about downing every single girl in the palace that wasn't herself, Mena, or the baby princess. Half the kingdoms would probably conclude Fanelia was insane and declare war. Again, Hitomi thought darkly, Armand would be right about her bringing the ultimate death to the kingdom.

"Don't let them bother you," a honeyed voice broke her sad and lonely thinking.

Giving her attention to the speaker, Hitomi received an eye full of beautiful. The woman was breathtaking! Long blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, and a figure that would make those pampered prisses envious.

To the dragon cave with it all, Hitomi almost felt jealous!

"Excuse me?"

"Don't let them bother you, they are just sore about being thrown over by the prince— I mean _king_," she smiled with pearly set of teeth that peeked out underneath rosy lips.

"Thrown over?" Hitomi pushed, curious about what it meant.

The woman turned to her side, tapped her chin with the end of one gloved finger, "I'm not sure you are ready to hear this."

With an innocent smile, the female faced the Queen again. Hitomi asked politely for her to tell but the woman still hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

There was a wickedly friendly smile upon the woman's lips as she took in a deep breath, and started her explanation.

* * *

"And how are you my beautiful little filly?" Armand asked after the royal couples had said their farewells. Hitomi, who made the good-bye short so Mena could return to her daughter, now named Yona, merely glanced up at her personal knight before climbing the steps into the carriage without his assistance.

He rolled his eyes and mounted his own animal as his lord entered the carriage. The Fanelian band was on the move again.

Van had been up for hours and having had a rough night's sleep. Hitomi's frigid attitude had disrupted any harmony that was needed for peaceful slumber without a fear of waking up bald do to an angry spouse and a razor.

"What's upsetting you so much?" Van's queried with smooth coolness The last thing he wanted to do was inflame her issue, whatever inane thing it might be, by being gruff.

"Nothing," she replied, her own voice an unnatural neutral tone. "I'm fine."

"Then why are you upset?"

"I'm _fine," _she insisted once again this time she punctuating her answer by crossing her arms tightly over her chest. Truth be told, and it wasn't hard to believe, she wasn't fine. Van couldn't get a word out of her, although his attempts were only half-hearted and less than enthusiastic.

He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms, mimicking his boiling wife. He could push her, try to extract an answer, but it was annoying to do that to someone who obviously didn't want to talk.

The king had his fill of that when he didn't want to talk. Merle, Armand, and all the others became pests. The more they pushed, the more he would retreat into his silence. When they finally did learn the truth, it really wasn't because of anything they did, but what they had _stopped_ doing. They ceased bothering him and he opened up enough to let them know.

The duchess, though a bit too hands on, had been as flirtatious as ever, but she was intelligent. The loss of her husband had driven the woman from a state of perpetual calmness into a state of a permanent hormonal teenage or something. A wire crossed, something snapped and her escape was to regress into a giggling, suggestive woman from last night. No matter, she was still understanding, still full of advice.

He just had to make sure her hands kept to herself during their talks.

_"Tell her what happened. If you think you two are getting close, take the first big step and try to get closer,"_ had been her advice. Duchess Frost wasn't one of the privileged persons who knew about the incident in detail, but she had taken enough guesses to get a rough idea.

How could he tell Hitomi what happened? Did he want to? As Van's eyes stole a glance of the woman across from him, he still wasn't sure. As much as he would like to there was still that gut wrenching feeling of failure in his stomach, eating up his heart, and making him cold inside.

Then the thought occurred to him, what if she didn't care about him or what he had to say? The mere thought of any other pain or rejection made his mind lock up. Turning his face away from her sharply, he scowled as he watched the kingdom of Slena pass by in patches of green and trickles of people.


	15. Dead Words

**Chapter 15**

* * *

A week after departing from Slena, Hitomi kept to her one-word answers. She wasn't going to let anyone know what was bothering and someone somewhere was probably laughing about it. The group of travelers had made a routine stop for the horses to rest and for man and beast alike to find a tree in which to lift a leg. Hitomi sat like a statue in the carriage, not moving and claiming, again, that she was 'fine'.

"Maybe they put a spell on her and it's all she can say. Perhaps the real her is trapped within that shell crying out for help, but all she can say is 'I'm fine' when she really wants to say 'help me! Help me!'. What a life to lead!" Armand gushed.

Van sighed.

Jill teared up.

Hitomi's muscles were tired and sore. She was only tense around Van and since she was nearly always around him, she was always tense. It hurt to constantly be on guard around him, but what else could she do?

Once she learned _what_ Van really was, she couldn't get herself to relax. To think! She had earnestly started to _like _him and it turned out to be a joke. Was Armand in on this? The woman who she talked with seemed to insist he was, that Armand knew, but did his best to do damage control so no one would ever know the truth about his beloved lord.

It was the right thing to do! She didn't want to get entangled up with someone like—like _that_. So why did she feel like a weed that had just been trampled?

Hitomi knew exactly why and it only made her feel worse.

* * *

"Lord Van!" Merle came, at a full sprint, and barely gave Van enough warning to prepare himself for impact. The teenage neko purred loudly as she squeezed her lord as tightly as she possibly could. Van returned the embrace, but with less strength.

"You're home," she squeaked and then caught sight of Hitomi over his shoulder. "Oh, you brought her back, too," she added in an irked tone, her ears going flat on her head.

Hitomi used the other side of the carriage to get out and back on the ground. She was exhausted and thrilled that they were _finally_ back. It had seemed like the longest three weeks of her _life_. Rai and a number of others were there to meet and greet the couple and knights who could only yawn and grunt in reply to many of their questions.

Rai had been the one to drag Hitomi into the castle and insisted that the woman get a good sleep before dinner. When asked how the trip was, the young queen gave a sad smile and simply said it had been educational. The older woman, having raised a few daughters of her own, went immediately to the source of gossip before going to the source of the problem though it was hard to tell them apart sometimes.

"Armand!" Rai called out as she thundered down the hall Armand's personal room was located. The brunette man peeked from behind his door in time to see the red-faced woman give him a stern glare. "What happened?"

The man, for lack of sleep and thinking, tried the innocent act. "What on _Gaea _do you mean?"

In a blink of an eye, Rai's hand snagged his ear and twisted it enough to hurt without being extremely painful while she yanked him out of the room.

"Ow! Owowowowow!" Armand sang out, squirming under the nails, and pressure of his captor. "What is wrong with you?"

"With _me?_ What's wrong with _me_?" She hissed. "Have you _seen_ the Queen? Have you even realized in all your maleness that something is wrong?" Her free hand was planted firmly on one side of her hips as her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Of _course_ I have!" He snapped, wincing as she twisted the ear yet again. "_OW_! What do you want me to do about it?"

"Nothing!" She glared, "You of all people don't need to be around a depressed girl."

Armand winced again, but this time it wasn't because of the ear. "So what do you want?" His voice was dull and annoyed.

"Tell me what happened," she barked, eyes blazing, "in explicit detail."

The man sighed, but gave in to her demands. He poured out everything he knew about the past weeks. Rai's eyes caught a new fire when she heard about the party.

"She was there, but she didn't make any advancements toward King Van," Armand watched as his confusion was matched in Rai's face.

"That doesn't seem like her."

"I know."

"But it was after this that Hitomi started to act strange?"

Armand nodded.

"She won't talk about it though."

"I think that little floozy must have gotten to her," Rai released the man's ear; he started to rub the sore flesh.

"So do I, but until she says something, we really can't assume."

The woman snorted, "_You_ not assuming? Ha!"

She giggled and shook her head; she swiveled on her heels, and looked over her shoulder with a smile, "don't breathe a word of this, Armand." Rai advised, walking off.

The knight sighed with relief and watched the maid disappear up the stairs. Turning back to his room, he saw the young face of Jill peeping through the crack of his slightly open door. Glaring, Armand asked what he was staring at.

The younger man chuckled before giving a sing-song answer, "Armand got beat up by his mommeee!"

Jill slammed the door shut as Armand growled and stomped toward the man. When that hunt seemed futile, Armand slammed his own door and crashed into his bed.

* * *

"So you see, your majesty," the councilman smiled, "everything has been going smoothly."

Van flipped through the large stack of notes and books of numbers the counselors had given him to look over. His face remained neutral as he slowed his pace and an eyebrow rose. Putting the book aside, he looked steadily at the last counselor to speak.

"You've all done well," he commended and they were wise enough to move, crack a smile, or laugh. "But the trade from Asturia has spiraled downward. Why is this?"

They looked nervously at each other, before one man swallowed heavily and stepped forward.

"After the kidnapping of the Prince of Freid, they have made security tight around both kingdoms making it near impossible to get anything in or out of the country."

That didn't make sense, every country could be self-sufficient, but due to the rather heavy population of Asturia it usually required importing more food than the country could produce on its own. Chid's missing really shook them to the core. Whoever did this was trying to make those kingdoms die. Probably weaken them enough in order to strike when they wouldn't be able to fight back with any real fire power.

Sighing, the king dismissed the members, but not before requesting the presence of Hitomi's father. He was supposed to be extremely close to Dryden, who headed up all the trade to and from Asturia and was also next in line to inherit the throne since his marriage to Princess Millerna.

* * *

Hitomi tossed restlessly in bed. Her eyes hurt from pinching them hard. Rai's suggestion of sleep threw off her sleep cycle; this was the third day since returning she slept most of the day. Every day was growing steadily worse with her nightmares.

The same image would haunt her, causing her to wake up in sweat and tears. The images wouldn't fade away like a normal dream. No, this stuck with her as if it was burned into the back of her eyelids. Today was no different; she had fallen asleep and was quickly sucked into the world she hated to witness.

_"Is he ready?" That sweet voice, the one that hurt him before, asked. Why were they being so nice? _

_Hitomi wasn't outside the dream anymore, she was interacting within it. She searched the room, and found the young, battered blonde boy; her heart ached as she raced to his side. He was still alive!_

_"Chid?" She asked, but the boy didn't hear her. Nobody heard her. She turned around, eyes eager to see who else was in this room. There was only one other person, but their face was blurred and their arms crossed. Was it a man or woman? From the clothes the person wore, there was no way to see any indications of either sex._

_"What is this?" She cried out, watching the person drew closer to the defenseless boy. "Stay away from him!" Hitomi tried to push the phantom person away, but sailed through the image as if the person were smoke._

_Turning around quickly, the scene went blood red. Her eyes widened as the young boy, with a smile no child should know how to make, held a knife high above his head –right in front of her. He chuckled as tears escaped his eyes, without any warning he struck, Hitomi screamed as the knife went into her belly._

"Hitomi!" The roughness of her shoulders being shaken snapped her out of that unbearable vision. Her green eyes flew open and searched frantically for the enemy, ready to fight for her life. Through her tired and crying eyes, she saw the face of her husband looking back at her.

She took in gulps of air and felt along her stomach.

"It was just a dream," she muttered out loud, as if to reassure herself. Her senses seemed to be stretched impossibly thin. Everything from the wind gently blowing the curtains to the warmth coming off of Van's hand, everything seemed to be amplified. The last thought hooked in her mind.

He was touching her.

Her tenseness ached for a break, as her mind sweated the details of the dream.

"What's wrong?" Van's voice was almost soothing as he spoke to her. Hitomi was happy to have anyone with her at the moment, but it was still him. Was he going to use this as a window of opportunity?

"I'm fine," she managed out in shaky voice, but made no move to break his hold. The answer was all he needed to hear to become more frustrated with her. He'd been coming to change for sparring when all her thrashing and crying had caused him to wake her up. When he couldn't get her to wake up by gentle coaxing, he became worried and rougher with his methods.

"Fine," Van spat out, leaving the shaking woman alone in the bed.

Hitomi noted the almost disgusted tone in his voice as he disappeared into the changing room. She couldn't help but let the feeling of sadness nest on her heart. She felt like crying all over again. The Queen was growing frustrated herself. She knew the truth about him and all the things he had done. There was no way she could over look the fact that he-was what he was. Still she was worried about Van.

Her heart growled, stomped its foot loudly with every beat, and warned she couldn't forget what else she found out on that trip!

* * *

"You haven't spoken with her in a month?" Armand asked, astonished as he watched his king weave through the multiple attempts from his opponent to run him through. The king was a big stickler about practicing, something instilled in him through Balgas.

"What does it matter?" Van asked, blocked, and then charged.

"What does it _matter_?" Armand repeated in disbelief. "It matters a great deal!"

If Van failed to see that, then the kingdom would never get an heir and Rai would probably blame it all on Armand. His mother had a way of making everything _his_ fault when it came to Hitomi and Van's happiness since they got married. She insisted he would have to create a romance or attempt to get one to blossom naturally. Given Armand's rather sad track record, he felt the least qualified for the task, but he wouldn't mention that to his mother if he was on his death bed.

"Not to you," Van hissed as he was nicked by his opponent's epee. He was able to finally disarm his challenger and sighed deeply. "What goes on between with Queen and I is a personal affair, involving just us, no matter what you say, think, or want to believe." Van used the back of his hand to wipe away the beads of sweat that sprinkled his forehead.

Armand pouted, but didn't push the issue. Instead, he went a different trickier route. He smiled and then went into his drama-knight role. "Settling it might be between the two of you, but the entire castle knows _something_ is up. We aren't deaf, mute, or blind."

Van kept his back to the other two, but flinched. The king knew exactly what Armand was speaking about. It was only a few nights ago when, after they had gone to the bedroom, a fight ensued. Hitomi had been nearly unbearable since leaving Slena and Van had had his fill. Merle had been pestering him about what was wrong, and when he hadn't been able to answer, Merle insisted that he find out or stop being a boring person.

So he had, rather innocently to him, asked her what was wrong. When she replied with a solemn 'nothing' he decided to let her know exactly how wrong that answer was. Unfortunately for both of them he didn't control his aggravation and lost his diplomatic ability to speak calmly.

_"You're lying,"_ He had accused; this was the point in time when he had enough presence of mind to actually keep his anger in check.

_"Why would I do that?"_ She replied, sprinkling some type of powder over her skin. It smelled really nice, like cucumbers, but that was only a momentary distraction from the fight

_"I don't know, but for some reason, you've decided that you despise me. I think I have the right to know why."_ Still, he was calm.

All movement from Hitomi's vanity stopped. Her back went straight and her shoulders tensed.

_"Can you blame me?" _Her reflection revealed her pain as the tears started to form. Another distraction, but this needed to be figured out and quickly before they ended up hating each other.

Another woman hating him, imagine that.

Van remained silent, waiting for the volcano to explode. Hitomi, with enough silence, would bubble out every last thing that was on her mind, this much he had come to know.

"_Can you really blame me?"_ She cried. _"You truly are naïve to think I wouldn't learn the whole truth about your past and what you really are..."_

His heart shriveled up and groaned in pain. She knew? _How_ could she have known? Who told her about that? Names and faces whirled in his mind trying to finger who would be so hateful to betray him in such a way.

He stood there, speechless, as the ache in his heart made him regret ever bringing the subject up. Didn't they all recommend he come clean about who he was and what had happened? He could imagine the triumphant smirk on Merle's face when she learned she had been right.

_"Who told you?"_ His mask was set securely over his features. He wouldn't let anything bother him; he couldn't let a weakness show—especially to a woman.

_"One of the girls at the party, she told me everything that you did!"_ Her tears trickled down her face and she stubbornly wiped them away with her hands.

He couldn't say anything, couldn't do anything but turn and walk away. There was always a instant when it was best to walk away. That had been the best time to walk away. Much to the distress of the situation, he didn't let it drop there. As his hand was on the door ready to leave, Van had turned back to the woman and his eyes hidden behind his bangs, he looked at her and asked one more question.

"_You don't trust me, do you?_"

"_You've never given me a reason to."_

"_Then I guess you should listen to her." _

Van sheathed his sword; his eyes seemed to quiver with emotion a heartbeat before it was concealed behind damned mask. It was a bit more painful than he ever wanted to admit.

"Your highness?" Armand called him from the depths of his thinking. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," he answered automatically, and grabbed a towel before exiting the room.

Jill, who had been the King's partner, looked at the door and then to the senior knight as the man growled under his breath, "I'm really learning to hate that word."

"It's _fine _by me," The young male quipped.

This time, Armand didn't let him make an escape before Jill felt the full wrath of the angry brunette.

* * *

If Hitomi was going for a record of feeling bad, Merle would probably volunteer to be her coach and cheerleader. Whenever she could, the neko would remind her of just how mean she was being. The queen tried to chase the neko from the room only to learn how flexible that feline girl was as she back flipped and slammed the door on Hitomi.

"You made Lord Van upset!" Merle accused. "You didn't even give him a chance! You meanie!" She hissed through the door. Hitomi stomped her foot and pounded on the door, but when all she got were giggles of evil delight, the blonde grumbled and left.

She didn't need to hide in the bedroom as she had been. There was no reason why she should avoid living just because she and Van weren't getting along. In fact, it was his fault—sort of. She thought it was. The words he had stabbed her with caused her to rethink what she heard.

She only met that girl the one time; Hitomi wasn't even privileged to her name! On the other side, Van, who she knew for a quite a bit longer, was possibly misunderstood. However, it wasn't so hard to misunderstand the very few sentences the woman said before running off.

Her head throbbed with confusion as the headache started to take its toll on her mind.

To add to the mystification, even her royal adviser/pain in the neck Armand had been letting her do whatever she pleased without fusing or reminding her she would bring the ultimate downfall of Fanelia. Running her fingers along the wall as she slowly walked to nowhere in particular, Hitomi didn't know what to do with herself.

She'd been rather short with Van. Since their return to Fanelia, she had been giving him only giving him one worded answer, sometimes three words when she felt charitable. The three weeks on the road plus the two and half they'd been back had proven to serve an opposite effect of what she wished. Coming to a stop at the top of a flight of stairs leading down to the library and several other rooms, Hitomi sighed.

She was hurting, but it wasn't because of anything she did!

If this is what it meant to be in— _this_ state she'd rather do without it.

Hitomi shook her head slowly.

Closing her eyes she leaned against the wall. Briefly she wondered if Van was feeling anything like she was feeling and if he was sorry about his past.

"Are you sick?" Hitomi's eyes snapped open so see those stone garnet ones burning back at her. How long had he been standing there? Why was he _still_ standing there? From the sheen of sweat on his sun bronzed skin, she easily guessed he had been practicing again.

"N-no," she answered, oddly thankful he was talking to her.

He nodded and began to walk away, dabbing his face with the towel he'd slung around his neck.

Biting her lip, Hitomi took in a quick breath, drew upon her tired strength, and by the time the words came to mind, she had to shout them down the hall.


	16. Embrace It

**Chapter 16**

* * *

Van's towel and jaw dropped. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. With large eyes, he looked over his shoulder at her. Words and actions refused to be accessible as he tried his hardest to process what in the dragon's fire she was talking about!

Stomping her foot, she flew down the stairs, leaving a very baffled king in her verbal wake. Hitomi's words seeped into the mortar and whispered back to each other.

That's what she thought about him? Where would she get an idea like _that_?

Van's higher mental process started to do the extensive memory search for an answer, but only one name continuously came up.

Armand.

He was the one who had the most contact with the queen besides himself, and he was at the ball which seemed to be the starting point of this whole mess. Mapping out where the man could have taken off to, he went in the direction of the kitchen.

She had to be joking!

Van would have set a new record in the time it took him to close the distance from the upper, west wing hall to the kitchen— if such things were recorded. He threw open the doors, scanned, and found a startled soul to interrogate.

"Where is the _knight_?" Van ordered to an innocent kitchen boy who pointed in a direction and then skittered away as quickly.

Of course! The knight went for the wine, the king should have known. Being honorable was one of Van's most treasured character traits, but according to the Queen he was nothing more than animated dirt. She hadn't said as much or with such a description, but she might have well had if that was her true opinion of him.

Who _else_ thought that?

"_DECRI_!" Van roared.

With the scrape of a chair legs and boot leather hitting the floor, a rattled knight was soon in front of him. Red wine speckled his white shirt, proof he must have spilled it on himself after being so rudely disturbed.

"What may I do for you, my liege?"

"Who talked to Hitomi? What did they tell her?"

"I don't know! A few maids perhaps, but I dare not stick my nose into girl matters," Armand answered quickly. His mother was going to _kill_ him.

Van's temper was getting the best of him as he clenched his fists, "she thinks I _use_ women."

"That you—wait, _what_?" Oblivious of the danger he was in, the knight began to chuckle. The noise soon grew into full fledge laugh. Tears started to roll down his face and that was just like throwing a tree trunk on an already raging fire.

"It's not funny. She hates me because she thinks that I am some sort of womanizer!"

"You can't see the humor in this, m'lord?" Armand snorted and dried his eyes. "She thinks that _you_, you who only looks at a female to know which way to run away from, is a manipulator?"

"Who told her this?" Van demanded.

"Somebody at the party, perhaps one of your spurned love affairs," With one stern look from Van, Armand sighed and decided to keep quiet. Well, not so much quiet as to refuse to say anything that might be a joke until Van either had a physical activity to participate in or vented properly. The chestnut haired man just hoped that any venting was not done in his general direction.

"Why would she think that about me?" Van's temper tapered off as he seemed lost in his own disbelief. "What could I have done to give her _that_ impression?"

"I honestly do not know, my lord. But perhaps you should tell her your past before another bit of poison is slipped into her thoughts." Armand's words didn't fall on deaf ears, but Van didn't respond to them. "This comes from a fool who can't correct his lack of conversational skills with his own wife."

For the knight to mention his wife, Van wagered silently, it had to be serious.

* * *

Merle had been hopping mad when she stepped out of the bedroom to find no Hitomi and a brooding Van. The king had always confided in her, and it was time once again to come into that role. He was upset and ended up spilling the entirety of the situation.

The neko was ready to tear the castle down to find that presumptions trollop! To think that the great and honorable Van would ever sink as low to be a common abuser! He never would hurt anyone, unless it was in battle, but that was another matter entirely. Yet _she_ thought he did it for sport?

"I think you should just let her keep thinking that!" Merle stomped around. "She'll be the one who misses out on a great person!" The girl crossed her arms and legs as she plopped down on the bedroom floor, next to the fireplace, her tail flicking irritably. Van sat on the bed, contemplating what advice he'd been given and what he was thinking.

Before the ball, he and Hitomi had been getting closer. Yes, they had their moments of downfall, but the uplift was even greater. He wasn't usually so reserved on his emotions, but to act out on them wasn't going to help him in this matter. It certainly didn't help before. He still wasn't sure what to think or to feel about Hitomi, but he hated to be so horrific in her eyes.

For some reason, that was what bothered him the most.

He had to do it! That was it, he just had to. He didn't want to, but there was no way around it. The thought she was alive and hating him for what she thought he was just ate at Van to the point of doing something about it.

Climbing to his feet, he ran his gloved hand through his hair before declaring his course of action. "I'm going to tell her the truth."

Merle's tail stilled, her eyes and voice held suspicion, "What 'truth'?"

"About what happened with—her," Van clarified; his smile pathetically small. He was at the door before the cat girl was propelled back into action. Fear of pain for him made her move, made her almost desperate to protect him from another fall.

"No! Lord Van! Don't!" Merle had tears in her eyes as she grabbed her lord's hand. "You can't!" She clenched her eyes shut, trying to stop the tears as she wrapped her arms around his arm and buried her face in it. "Y-you can't!"

She remembered it all too clearly. The things that happened, the way he reacted, the way he retreated by shutting everyone out of his life. It was worse than when his brother had died! Van almost _gave_ himself to the undertaker of depression and all because he told the truth! It wasn't fair!

"Merle," Van said gently, prying her hands off of him. "I don't want it to be like this." With that, he turned and walked out of the room.

Merle's tears wouldn't fall, but it didn't stop her heart from shattering on the floor. He wouldn't recover! He was allowing himself to be slaughtered.

Clenching her fists, the neko knew she was powerless against _him,_ but if that female messed this up no one—_no one_ would be able to protect her!

* * *

"Hitomi?" Van questioned, seeing at least a half dozen heads bobbing up and down in time with the washing grills as they cleaned out the sheets, shirts, and other what-knits. Between the stirring, scrubbing, and pressing, it was hard to make his way around all the women who were dressed in the same with light blue dresses and white caps to protect their hair.

The room was extremely humid as the hot irons were placed on the linens to give them a crisp appearance (that would last only a few moments once they were used). Rei had mentioned, offhandedly, that Hitomi had been seen making her way to the laundry rooms. The kitchen, Van figured, was her first choice, but a bit too obvious for her to be able to hide from him.

At the rate he was going, he'd have to tap every woman on the shoulder and see if it was his wife or not.

"My King," one female plucked up as he passed her tub. "What are you doin' down 'ere?"

Luck was smiling down on him.

Cocking an eyebrow, "Have you seen the queen?"

"'er majesty?" a new girl asked, "She's out back, 'angin' up the sheets."

He nodded his thanks and hurried from the stuffy and dripping with estrogen room. The only distinct difference between that group of women and a group of heiresses was the laundry female didn't hide their appreciation as they would scan him from head to toe while the royals would only ogle him from behind their teacups.

He could feel their eyes on him as he quickly jumped up the stairs and left the steamy room. The instant he set foot on the grass, the room behind him erupted into giggles. Van sighed; maybe he should have come down in full dress, that way they be intimidated and not interested.

Foolishly thinking that the drying lines were one or two, he nearly fell over to see at least thirty or more lines strung up between forked poles. Another handful of girls in white were bustling about, so the green of Hitomi's dress stuck out rather well against the field of white linens.

"You there," an older woman turned and nearly fainted as her lord approached her. "Tell those who are working to go inside for a while."

"Y-yes, your majesty," the woman did a sloppy, nervous curtsy and then bellowed for the girls to come in. Van wasted no time and ducked into the row Hitomi was pinning sheets up on. She had been completely oblivious to him for a few moments, until she turned to collect another sheet and saw him patiently watching her.

"V-van," her blush was a chain reaction to his name. "W-what are you doing here?" She plucked up another sheet and threw one end over the line. Nervous chickens ran around in her stomach on fluffy footed horses, making it highly ticklish.

"We need to talk," he said simply.

Her blood froze as her heart rate hit the roof. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, the Queen attempted to find another girl in the field to use as an excuse, but there wasn't a soul around but a fat cat who mewed and stretched out in the sun's rays.

"About what?"

"About what you said," Van replied coolly. "Why'd you say it?"

Obvious question.

"It's the truth isn't it?" Hitomi shot back, barely giving him another glance as she smoothed out the wrinkles from the sheet. She didn't even hear him move before she found her wrists caught up by his hands as she was forced to look at him.

"No, it isn't," Van's voice went from his cool tone to a slightly deeper, huskier sound. "It's not true; I would never do that to any woman. Though a few wouldn't have minded if I tried." There was a distinct disgust in his last sentence. "I don't know _why_ you think this about me, and you've already said that you don't trust me, but I want you to believe me."

Hitomi was speechless. Here he was, making it hard to dislike him again. Van made it even harder when he let the hands fall between them. His hands left her wrists and slid down to hold them gently. Either he was really, really good at acting or he was being honest. He was opening up—that boy again who was hiding in there was peeking through. The same boy with the shy smile who blushed after she had accidently brushed his hand with hers during a meal in Slena.

"Van," she started, trying to get her thoughts to be quiet. "S-she told me that you would go to a different palace, mansion, estate, or whatever people live in who have a lot of money, stay to _visit_ with the girl and then take off in the middle of the night."

He wasn't sure how that led to him being a womanizer. Personally it sounded like he was just overly friendly and liked to travel.

"That's all?"

Studying their hands, she swallowed. She didn't think that giving the abridged version would work.

"She told me you would—_stay_ with the girls. She said that you'd promise to marry them and then—then, uhm, take advantage of them only to leave them later that night." Her cheeks were like two fire coals, burning red hot with embarrassment.

Ah, now it was making sense. "Who is this _she_?"

"I told you, I don't know. She never gave me a name," Hitomi's eyes flickered up to Van's. "Is it true?"

Gods, she didn't want it to be. That's why she didn't really want to talk about it. She didn't want to hear that any of the accusations were real.

"They, the women you speak of, were too concerned for their well being to give a moment's thought about the kingdom," Van explained, a ghost of a smile tracing his lips. "I _did_ visit numerous bridal candidates." Hitomi went rigid, but he sighed. "But I only had dinner with them, if I even stayed that long."

"Why?" Hitomi questioned, slowly drawing her hands from Van's in order to continue her work.

"I didn't care about them and they didn't care about me," Van picked a sheet from the wicker basket, and ran his gloved fingers over the fabric. "Some were willing to pretend, but I— I didn't want to do—I didn't want that."

Relief swept up from the ground like a warm wind and before she knew it, Hitomi found herself light headed and hugging Van. She was just _so_ happy he was the man she hoped he was and not the brash boy that the girl insisted. She tightened her hold on the king who was in such a state of shock, that he wasn't able to respond.

A heartbeat passed, then twenty more, and at last Hitomi's eyes flew open in shock. Just as she was ready to pull back and bluster out a mouth full of apologies and excuses, she felt his arms on her back. H-he was hugging her back?

Hitomi felt dizzy with surprise all over again.

Van held her, his eyes closed as he tried to push away the nagging demons reminding him of what he was and of what happened. He didn't want to think about that as he could feel her warmth against his skin. He didn't come out here to talk about that part of his past, but he'd get around to it.

Eventually.

Someday.

Maybe.


	17. Fruity

**Chapter 17**

* * *

"Do that again and I'll shave your furry neko behind!" Hitomi threatened as she slammed the door, a fire poker in her hand and her face contorted in annoyance. The cat girl had been growing more and more frustrating since Van and Hitomi had come back from the laundry lines. Merle had been unsure of the result, but it seemed positive.

That wasn't a good thing for the furry girl. If Hitomi and Van continued to get closer, she would lose her adopted brother. That's why she snuck into the bedroom and nearly scared the blonde to death when Merle leapt from Van's changing room armed with a fire poker. Hitomi was quick to react, disarm, and wave the poker above her head.

After chasing the annoying cat teenager, Hitomi slammed the door shut and huffed. When a sharp knock caused her to jump, she whirled around, still armed, and jerked the door open. "I told you-!"

Van blinked back at her, looking stunned, and then questioning as he saw the poker held high above her head.

"Did I do something?" He asked honestly.

She laughed nervously and tried to hide the weapon behind her back as she moved away from the entrance. He shut the door gently with his foot as he moved around her, a tattle-tell smile of his amusement on his lips. As Van went to his changing room, he stopped, and he quirked an eyebrow.

"Why are all my clothes on the floor?"

Hitomi threw the poker down by the fire place and nearly growled, "Because of Merle!"

"Is that who you were trying to kill?" He inquired, shifting through the piles. "Still?"

"Not kill, I wouldn't hurt her—much." Hitomi smirked as Van turned around, both eyebrows raised. "I'm only joking, but she is rather bothersome."

"How so?" Van requested as he stripped off his sweat-soaked shirt in exchange for a clean white one.

The queen opened her mouth to tell of the bratty things the neko had been inflicting upon her, but cut herself short. Before putting on his clean shirt, Van had apparently decided to wash up at the basin. Rubbing a cold, damp cloth across his face Hitomi could only stare at his muscled back. Watching the smooth motions of his muscles as they rippled lightly underneath his sun kissed skin was making her mouth go dry. She never noticed his physical attractiveness as much as she did then. Working out every day had its perks apparently; both for those who did the working out and for those who got to see the results.

"Well?" Van pondered, turning around to give her his full attention.

"Uh," she pivoted around quickly, gazing at the fire. "N-nothing."

Oh _gods_, the front was even _more_ tempting.

Cocking an eyebrow, Van let it drop. Whatever was going on between the females would have to be settled by them. If he stepped in, either Merle or Hitomi would be angry that he had 'picked sides' and then put him through a living nightmare.

Women.

* * *

Van cleaned his sword as he sat perched on the balcony's lip while Hitomi slept peacefully within room. He was somewhat anal about a clean sword, the sharpness didn't matter so much because be enough force behind any object and it would be harmful.

From where he was poised, the king could make out the figure of the sleeping queen. He was slightly weary of her, well, more like her dreams. She would toss, turn, call out, and cry, but never confide in him. All Hitomi would ever say was it was a nightmare and then shake with a sheen of sweat coating her body.

It was hard for him to put up with her constant wall but then again, he was the pot calling the kettle black. Besides his actions, Hitomi had no reason to trust him implicitly. Shaking his head, the King went back to rubbing down his blade.

Sooner or later, he'd have to question his own emotions and trust issue. It was something he wasn't ready to think about. Lucky for him, a yelp of pain caused him to jerk from his seat and to his feet.

"Hitomi?" He called out, another whimper, and then another. Swiftly he went to her, rested on the bed beside her, held her shoulders, and gently started to shake her. "Hitomi, wake up!"

Her movements were rough and wild, but the king had little problem holding her down as he tightened his grip.

"HITOMI!"

Wild, green, and scared eyes flew open, grabbed Van's wrists as she shook violently. "Wh-where?"

"Hitomi, it's okay," Van reassured as he released her. He was scraping the memories of his childhood nightmares and how his mother would comfort him. "It's okay."

The girl studied Van for all of three seconds, before crushing him in a tight embrace. "They're going to kill him!" She cried out, her head buried in the fabric of his shirt. "I— I tried to help! I don't think he's going to make it!"

"Shhh," Van insisted, slightly stunned by the sudden physical touch. "It was only a dream." His words became softer as he bent his head, bringing his lips closer to her ear. Running a hand through her hair as the other arm wrapped tightly around her waist, Van never felt so awkward in his life.

Hitomi sobbed as she replayed the evil images in her mind. She saw that same little boy, the same blonde hair boy crying out for a gentle hand. In the visions, all bloody and broken, she wrapped her arms around that terrified little boy. When the world started to tumble down upon them, another person wrapped his arms around them both, safe within a pair of beautiful wings.

* * *

"I absolutely _hate_ these state dinners." Armand muttered with a mouth full of pins. "They are nothing but a pain in my tight little arse."

Hitomi rolled her eyes, but kept her arms lifted up, straight from her side. The brunette man and Rai had been all a twitter since Van casually mentioned the higher families of Fanelia were going to stop by the palace for dinner.

"T-tonight?" Rai asked pleasantly enough, but Hitomi should have known something was wrong with the pair when the maid started to pour the coffee into the orange juice.

Van nodded, "didn't Jill tell you?"

Armand cut his eyes to the pest of a little knight who was whistling innocently at the end of the table.

"Of course, sir," the higher ranked knight answered with a lethal smirk. "Why would Sir Jill keep anything like _this_ from us unless he had a _death wish_!"

"If it is a problem, we can reschedule," Van shrugged.

"And miss the chance to hob nob with all those spoiled little snobs?" Armand smiled as he slowly began to retreat. "I mean, I will have to get the Queen a dress fitting for this occasion, get her hair done, make-up, and so on. That usually only takes a week but who doesn't like a good challenge!" The man started to laugh as he quickly excused himself from the room.

Rai gave into the same nervous laugher as she swiftly followed her son out into the hall, taking off toward the kitchen.

Hitomi laughed gently at the strange family, Van gave a soft genuine smile behind his juice cup. It was quickly spat into his napkin. Orange flavored coffee wasn't exactly the best tasting stuff to come from the kitchens.

As the other servants came in to clean up the breakfast dishes, the ebony haired male turned to his wife.

"I don't want you uncomfortable," Van stated, "wear something you feel like yourself in."

Hitomi blinked in surprise and Armand cried out like someone had stabbed him in the nether regions when she had told him what had been said when she saw him next.

"Hold still!" Armand ordered, shoving another pin into her dress. "Just because you are faint from lack of sleep doesn't mean you have to look the part tonight."

"How did you know that?" Hitomi asked, pulling her hands to her chest which elicited a growl of annoyance from the knight.

"Because those aren't saddle bags under your eyes," Armand deadpanned. "Nor are they make up circles, or soot, or-"

"Okay!" Hitomi had the strangest urge to spin as quick and fast as she could just to see how incurably mad he could become. "I get it." When she crossed her arms, Armand threw his up in disgust.

"Fine! Go looking like the little beggar girl you were!" He flung down the pins and thread before he stormed out. Then, like a mad man, he came storming and stomping back into the room, grabbed his kit, and resumed his work. "I don't want to get reassigned just because you decided to act like a child."

"_Me_?" Hitomi squeaked incredulously. Then a thought struck her, "You must like being my personal body guard not to want to get reassigned."

Armand snorted at the comment, "the King is your personal body guard, and I am nothing more than a glorified shield that doesn't get that much glory."

Another mouthful of pins later, Armand declared her acceptable, but at the lowest possible rating possible. Just as she walked out of room, Van appeared out of nowhere. She felt her face flame up when he just stood staring at her.

"Isn't it good enough?"

"What's the big deal?" Merle pestered, poking her head from behind Van's shoulder. "She looks like every other girl down there!" The cat girl observed, coming around to Van's side. Putting his hand on her head, she shut up automatically. Silently, he walked up to his wife and offered her his arm. The queen accepted and the couple seemed to almost float down the hall and stairs. Merle's blood was boiling at this. She couldn't understand how Van could be so dumb. He trusted this girl? _Why_?

* * *

The dinner was as tolerable as always. When the couple entered, the entirety of the dining room stood, and cooed at the Queen as the men smirked at the King. They both welcomed the people and then sat down to dinner.

"You must feel so lucky," one woman whispered. "He is _so_ handsome."

Hitomi smiled pleasantly, "Thank you."

"So," an older woman who was trying to look twenty, but was actually pushing sixty, "Did you steal her from that wretched princess?"

"Princess?" Hitomi questioned, tasting her drink for the first time that night. _Wow, fruity! _

"Oh yes," the overly made up woman leaned in closer. "A little wretch of a woman, but don't you say you heard it from me."

The Queen nodded, feeling oddly warm as she finished her cup.

Halfway through the evening, all that was on Hitomi's mind was more fruit flavored drink and more and more. By the end of the evening, a butler was helping the Queen out the door as inconspicuously as possible. It didn't help Hitomi was slurring out the Fanelian national anthem off key and loudly.

_Great_, Van thought shaking his head, a drunken queen. That would take the pressure off of the kingdom and himself! He huffed a good-bye to the last dinner guest and made a straight line for where the butler had deposited the Queen before anyone (save the King) had a chance to label her a drunk.

Before pushing the door open, Van took a deep breath to prepare himself for what was to come. The image of her strewn across the fainter couch made him whimper on the inside. Her head was lulled back, her arms spread across the cushion as her feet clicked together in an erratic rhythm. She, of course, was sitting on the floor, the pink skirt of her dress up to her knees.

Approaching her, he knelt down, and turned her face toward him.

"How much did you drink?" Van questioned as the smell of wine hit his nose.

"I have—nooooo idea," Hitomi's voice was singsong as she rocked her head from side to side. "They just kept refilling it." She tried to pick herself up, and with Van's help, she succeeded. With a bit more effort, Van was able to heft her to her feet in a wobbled stance.

"You are completely gone, aren't you?" There was an amused tone in his voice as he let go of Hitomi to watch her sway back to front and side to side.

"Of course I'm not! I mean, I thought I couldn't handle al-co-hol. But I'm fine wif it," she poked him in the chest and then, when her legs finally went, she grabbed the King and being caught off guard, they both went down on the couch in a half-drunk heap.

Lifting his torso from her with his arms, he felt a blush paint over his cheeks as he realized how close they were. Hitomi's nose was right at the tip of his and for a moment, the world disappeared.

"This," Hitomi whispered, her fingertips brushing the side of his face, "is nice."

Van couldn't get his heart under control as he looked down at his wife. She was beautiful, he'd come to terms with that a while ago during their swim when he saw her unchanged by the overdone hair or make-up. For the moment, he was more drawn to her parted lips as she tried to recapture her breath.

Gods, it wasn't supposed to be like this—was it?

Van allowed his eyes to slowly drift shut as he began to bring his lips closer to hers. Hitomi's heart murmured with excitement and followed the King's lead, allowing her eyes lids to slowly close. Breathe upon breathe, nervousness reaching a fever pitch-

"Good news, King Van!" An elder burst into the room without so much as a knock, saw the couple who looked back at the man with blood red cheeks and large eyes. "Oh! I'm sorry!" He shut the door as quickly as he opened it, and the couple scampered apart. "Wait this was important!" The man emerged again.

"Go ahead, Charel," Van commanded; his face was still rosy red, but quickly fading as he stood up to straighten his clothes.

"Prince Chid! They found him!"


	18. Armand's Caria

**Chapter 18**

* * *

The cruelest joke ever told by a grapevine was the one of a hangover. It was a grape's final revenge for being murdered and squashed. This was a prank only the vegetation found funny, but Hitomi wasn't laughing.

As she blinked away the sleep, she briefly wondered why her head felt like someone was going hog wild beating on tribal drums.

Due to the lack of light, there was no question that it was still night or, at the latest, early morning. Groaning in pain, the girl slowly began to push herself off the bed. Van was sleeping on his side facing away from her.

She felt horrible and like something wanted to come back up her throat for a visit. Through a dizzy, nauseating run she made it to the bathing room. What did they slip into those bottles? Her mind was hazy, but it did an amazing job of clearing up when she noticed something. Pinching the fabric of her nightgown, she knew that she didn't go to sleep with this on.

_What happened?_

After cleaning herself up from her little stomach upset, she staggered back into the bedroom, and glanced around. There, thrown carelessly on the floor was the pink and white dress she had worn the night before.

Her heart picked up pace.

Praying to whoever was listening, Hitomi turned her attention to the rest of the room. Van's dinner attire was just as carelessly thrown on the floor and what was worse; her husband was peacefully sleeping in the nude—at least from the waist up.

She prayed he was wearing more than a sheet. Though tired, she really didn't want to risk the chance of getting into bed with a possibly naked man, husband or not!

* * *

"You look horrible," Armand pointed out, "and I mean that from the rock bottom of my black, shriveled little heart."

"I'm sure you do," Hitomi still hadn't gotten over the effects of the alcohol. Every sound rumbled in her ears and left her with sharp pangs in her already throbbing headache. She had spent the rest of the night sitting in one of the cushioned chairs wrapped in a blanket. When Van finally awoke, she faked sleep, not wishing to get an eye full.

At lunch, Van hadn't said a word but when their hands merely brushed as they simultaneously reached for the salt, his cheeks went red.

_I didn't,_ Hitomi assured herself._ Wouldn't I remember if we did anything?_

The nightgown was the _only _article of clothing she had on, lacking the nerve; she didn't ask or peek at Van as he got dressed. Though when he scooped her up from the chair, she nearly had heart failure, she was sure she was going to stop breathing when she felt him lay her down on the bed. She wasn't sure what he was thinking about doing but she didn't want it!

All he turned out doing was tucking her in and leaving.

Hitomi still wasn't sure what to think.

"Are you listening?" Armand questioned, quite perturbed about being ignored. "It is very rude to ignore someone, I'm sure even _your_ level of breeding must know that."

"Armand," Van admonished, the knight threw down his napkin and took off like a cat being threatened to be neutered. Watching him go, the king sighed and poked at his plate again. "Did you hear that the young Prince was found?"

"Really! That's great! They must be so happy!"

"He's badly hurt and hasn't spoken since he returned to them a few days ago," Van didn't fluff it up, but he never fluffed anything up. So if she _asked_ him what happened last night, he would give it to her straight.

But—she didn't want to hear something she wasn't ready to accept.

"What are they doing to help him?"

"He keeps writing something over repeatedly, but no one is able to read it. It is probably because his writing hand was crushed."

"Who would do such a thing to a little boy," Hitomi exclaimed, a sick feeling rising from the pit of her stomach.

"If I knew, I would tell the Duke. Chid is currently in Palas—the capital of Asturia, they are trying to keep him hidden from the people who took him so they won't be able to do it again."

Van wiped his mouth and dropped his napkin on his plate. Pushing his chair back, he stood up as he reached the door; Hitomi asked him a question that made even the tips of his ears go red.

"Wh-what happened last night?"

"You don't remember?" He asked gingerly.

"N-no."

"Oh," then he walked away quickly. He couldn't tell her that he almost kissed her while she was drunk! She wasn't acting like herself and he was going to take advantage of that? She'd end up hating him again or more or whatever.

* * *

"I-I almost _kissed_ her," Van's cheeks went to a lovely shade of pink. He put his gloved hand in his hair and shook his head slowly. It had been close to a week since the fateful diner.

For lack of anything more intelligent to do, he ran away. It wasn't really running, he went hunting. Armand was the prey, having no one else to confide in who would at least be pleasant about the situation. Had he gone to a female, they would have acting strangely. Van was a guy, to him all females acted strangely. If he'd gone to Merle, who is a female, but a dear friend, he would have gone deaf from her screaming.

Armand was male and had a similar situation happen to him. Therefore it was only logical to go seeking advice from the person who knew firsthand what the situation was like.

"Oh, no! Imagine a man kissing a woman—his wife no less! The skies be burned in shame!" Armand commented lamely as he downed another strong shot. "Why are you here?"

"I just needed advice," Van returned hesitantly.

"From me?" Armand scoffed, "I haven't even the guts to be truthful with my mother-in-law."

Speaking of the matron, she happened by the table and came to a complete stop.

"Armand!" She beamed, putting her tray down, she hugged the knight tightly. "How are you? How is Caria?"

He flinched and returned the hug loosely.

"Sh-she's fine."

The old woman smiled warmly.

"That's good. I want grandchildren some day!" The lady giggled and continued to serve her guests. "Have all you want; it's on Mr. Fukium and me, as always."

Van watched the interaction but wasn't sure what to do. Armand had become strangely silent after the matron left, kept his head down, and twirled his glass between his hands. It wasn't so eccentric that a woman should ask about her child, but the response from Armand was peculiar.

"Caria is—all right?" Van questioned, his face serious with concern.

Armand's grip tightened on the glass as he finally spoke, "let me tell you a story I heard once about another arranged marriage."

_"I can't marry some sleazy bar fly!" Armand screamed at his father, Balgus, after he proudly boasted about the arranged marriage. "I'm going to be knighted in a few months, I could do better!"_

_"Too late, son. The arrangements have all been made. You are going to marry this girl and you are going to like it, got that?"_

_Armand bit back his more disrespectful words, but he tightened his fists and snarled. "I might have to do it, but I'll hate it. And I'll hate you for doing it to me!" With that said the squire turned on his heel and stomped out of the room. He hated, hated, hated when his father decided to take control of his life. The man hardly treated him like a son, always too busy with the prince to give Armand a second glance._

_And now, NOW they wanted to make him waste his life on some little floozy from a local pub? His sisters didn't have to go through this indignity, why did he?_

_Without his wants or needs in mind, the parents from both families arranged a party to celebrate the union of their houses. The girl's name was Caria. She was the daughter of his mother's best friend, which is how the whole marriage was created. Armand had begrudgingly dressed for the party and kept his little storm cloud of anger over his head the entire evening. As more buxom and pretty women walked past him, he looked again at his future wife._

_She was a petite thing, coming only to his shoulders and a few inches of that was hair. She was pretty, but nothing that was so uncommon to make her stand out from the crowd. Caria had long, light brown hair with nearly golden-brown eyes that seemed to always be filled with laughter. All this wouldn't be too bad, but the fact was he was marrying a child who was barely sixteen made it seem so. _

_When they were introduced, her eyes lit up at the sight of the man. His hair was cut short, covering his head but not showing the natural curl and his eyes were so full of disgust, it was amazing that the girl didn't run home and cry in her toy box._

_Oh, he protested like the devil to a saint, but it came to no avail. The marriage date was set and soon it was done. His father, knowing the man was to be knighted, agreed to let the girl stay with her parents until Armand could get a decent place in the city._

_All those requirements seemed to have been met within a few months and without any consideration of Armand, he was soon saddled with his young bride. Caria was either oblivious or super optimistic, all of his tricks and excuses to stay away from the house and from her were believed without a second question for the first couple of months. Then she either got sick of it or got wise to it. He had been intent on going back out to a bar when she came to him, tears of anger in her eyes as she grabbed his arm, making sure he noticed her state._

_"You can't go!" She cried like a spoiled child._

_"Indeed I can, as soon as you let me go," Armand was noted for his smart mouth and lack of care in the recipient of his bad attitude, but he tried not to be too offensive to her, after all she was just a child._

_"You always leave me here alone! I'm lonely. You're gone all day and then you always leave me. Why? Why!"_

_His eyes narrowed as he shucked his arm from her grip. _

_"I could get you a nanny," Armand offered coldly, his eyes boring into hers. When she didn't have anything to come back with, only stood there with her eyes large and her mouth open, he turned and left._

_A few weeks flew by after that incident, and the entire time the girl didn't say a word nor did she smile. Caria kept up with her duties as a wife, but she didn't hum or even act happy. It started to annoy Armand by the third week. Having been the youngest of seven and being the only boy, he knew the symptoms of a broken heart._

_If anyone had treated any of his six sisters in this manner, that man wouldn't be alive to tell the tale. Yet here he was being such a man and not being one to want to mutilate himself, he had to finally give in. Instead of saying anything to try to clear the air, that night he did something better. He stayed home._

_She was curious and wanted to ask, that much was obvious, but didn't want to jinx it so instead kept to her chores. It seemed to lighten her mood and it was nice not running up a tab at the local bar that he'd have to pay later._

_Deciding it wasn't as wretched as he thought it might be, a full two weeks went by and every night he was at home with her. Though they spent their nights in separate rooms, he could tell she was getting better with the situation._

_He still hated it. He had no love for her, didn't feel like faking an interest and kept reminding his father that he was, in fact, in love with another woman. The last part wasn't true, but it seemed to work for making his parents feel guilty. Armand had much preferred to be a multi-woman man than a one-woman man. Settling down was only a fairytale, but his parents took a hold of that story all too quickly._

_Their one year anniversary was coming up and still they remained living two separate lives. She was now seventeen and he was twenty-one. He frequented the bar, but mostly stayed home reading or writing letters to his sisters who were always so preachy about his situation and what he should do._

_"You know this silent treatment is rather childish," he pointed out one night, stabbing his potato with mild interest. Caria hadn't spoken more than she needed to since the night she confronted him._

_"I—didn't want to be a bother to you," the girl answered simply, picking at her napkin. He shrugged, and went back to tormenting his food. "Armand?"_

_"Hmm?"_

_"Why do you hate me?" It was an honest question and one that made him nearly send the potato flying across the room in surprise. "I—I know I'm not the one you wanted and I'm sorry, but you must know that I didn't plan this either."_

_"I'm not that interested in children," Every fragile thread of hope was cut that evening or so the knight thought. It simply by chance that the following week he was called away as a traveling companion for the prince and would be gone for close to seven months. During this time, he didn't know what she was up to and for lack of anything else to do, or so he told himself, he wrote to her frequently._

_Her letters seemed happy enough, saying she decided to take lessons from a local seamstress to learn to sew properly and other womanly things that made him roll his eyes. Though, he admitted, she did have some wit about her and a gentle sense of humor._

_Over the miles, he had agreed to stay in one room upon his return. Caria had written back a polite thank you to his consent but mentioned nothing else about it. He was somewhat disappointed she hadn't made a bigger fuss about it. _

_Upon the party's arrival back to Fanelia, Armand was more than surprised when his petite wife nearly knocked the breath out of him when she came out of nowhere and latched onto him in an embrace._

_"So that's your wife, eh?" another traveler asked. "Niiiiice."_

_Armand glared at the man. He was too used to being in the brother mode to shake off the reaction regardless of the woman. Tired and dirty, they both skipped the welcome back celebrations. He spent the majority of the time in the warm water of a bath, loving soap, and afterward he started to crawl into the bed where she was already fast asleep—or so he thought._

_As he edged into bed, Caria turned over, sat up, and leaned toward him. The man was blinking in mild surprise, but his eyes flew open wide when she boldly kissed him._

_"I'm not a child, Armand," Caria insisted, moving closer to him. Instead of sliding into bed, he sat on the edge, trying to get his brain to properly function. He was half turned, one leg bent on the bed and other over the side of the frame. "I want to prove that."_

_Was she saying—? _

_"What?" He asked, completely lost. This couldn't be that little girl he left months ago, she'd blush at the site of a couple kissing and she was attempting to seduce him? What exactly had that seamstress been teaching her! _

_"I know you don't love me," she confessed, tears forming in her eyes "but could you pretend to like me?" _

_She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought his lips delicately to hers. He could have stopped her, could have pulled back and laughed, but instead he kissed her back. She was offering, and he was willing enough to accept._

_The real surprise came when Caria started to lie back, and brought him with her. Another offer, another acceptance. It wasn't the last time either._

_When the first prince went missing, Armand began keeping care over the younger prince, Van. He was appointed to this duty by his ailing father who doubled as Van's swordsmanship instructor. The prince was sixteen, Armand was twenty-0four. When the first prince was reported dead, when the female hellion had come whipping through Fanelia, Armand was there for Van. The more time he spent with the prince, the less time he spent at home._

_On one of his brief stays at his house, his welcome was a bit shocking, but not so much so as the greeting. _

_"I went to the midwife today! I'm pregnant!"_

_Before he knew it there was a nursery next to the master bedroom and a swollen belly on his wife. He went through those nine months in a state of shock. A part of him said he should be thrilled, another, more arrogant part, told him that if he acted happy she might get the wrong idea._

_He was no longer making ice look like a hot spring, but he wasn't overly warm either. Caria was bubbling with excitement and sooner than he thought, the baby was there. She cooed over the tiny girl, smiling, and genuinely, purely happy. Armand had little problem showing the child affection and when Caria caught sight of him holding the baby, she would beam._

_But nothing good lasts, a sickness had spread throughout the land. Adults were normally unaffected, but a large number of children had died, their bodies not able to heal itself quickly enough. It took a few months before they were able to find a cure, but it was too late for their baby girl, Nirin._

_The day of the girl's funeral was one that was spent in silence. Van insisted upon the royal family paying for the funeral of this baby and every other child that was lost to the plague. The prince stated it was the royal family's fault for not pressuring the doctors to find a cure faster and therefore would help the families the only way they could now._

_Van had even been so generous as to show up to the funeral of the small baby girl. The days following the funeral were ones spent in silence for Armand while Caria spent them crying in the nursery. He knew what he needed to do and that was to reach out to her, comfort her, but it was no use in his mind. He spent years building a wall between them and it never moved. She wouldn't want him, surely, after all this time._

_Then it all came back down on him in one night, the rain had chased away fencing practice for the time, and Armand went straight home. Caria had spent the day in the nursery holding the small plush animals she sewn for the baby while crying softly._

_He took one step into the room and his wife went stiff. As he started to say something, she jumped up from her seat, whirled around with a rabbit doll still in hands, and tears in her eyes._

_"Do you want to know why I was so happy about the baby?" Caria's tears never stopped for a moment, her voice began to waver as she tried to brush the droplets away, "It's because a part of you would finally love me and because you loved a part of me—for a short time."_

_He reached out for her, but it was too late, she shoved him away and ran._

_Taking for granted she was going to her mother's he was surprised when the older woman came by with a grin to ask about her daughter. Armand was thrust into a heartfelt worry and quickly took to the streets, asking about her, and being directed to the same direction with every answer._

_The child graveyard._

_Sheets of rain beat down mercilessly as he made his way through the city, to the field, and finally to the gated ruins where the children were buried. The ruins were from an ancient orphanage that met with a tragic fate of fire and people not close enough to save the occupants within._

_"Caria?" He called over and over again. "Answer me!" Every time his voice called, it became noticeably more desperate. Where was she? Why had she even been at the ruins in such bad weather?_

_It was because of him. Armand wanted to punch himself in the stomach from sheer stupidity. She ran away because he was being an arrogant, condescending jack-ass, and she finally couldn't take it anymore. The winds picked up and howled through the ruins and trees like hungry wolves on the trail of easy prey._

_His heart sighed with relief when he saw her, but it was only a temporary joy._

"She had slipped on some of the ruins or something, hit her head, and passed out." The knight had finished off another drink before giving a short, hollow laugh. "With all the rain, she had drowned shortly thereafter or that's what they think," he ran his hand through his hair, "I should have told her to be careful."

Van knew the majority of the story, but he didn't know all of it until tonight. It was amazing to hear the goofball knight could actually be cruel and serious. Pain always did that to a person; Van considered quietly, it twisted them.

"Her mother is in denial and I am not the one to break her heart," Armand gave a bitter smile. "Shall we go?"

Both men collected their things, paid off their tabs, and headed outdoors.

"The best advice I can give you, milord, is to go back to her. Fall in love with her and never look back." The look he gave Van would have shattered the most frigid of hearts.

"Before you're just another fool, dreaming of the past."

Van watched his knight walk down the street, unaffected by the ice cold rain or the puddles and mud. The man never really seemed to recover; it was around the same time that his wife died when he started to act like a bratty moron, for lack of better words. It was just his way of hiding his pain, or so that's what Armand's mother insisted.

When the King returned, Hitomi was up leaned against the doorway to the balcony. She must've been too mesmerized by the lightening and the steady rhythm of the rain to even notice his return.

All the words from the conversation invaded his mind, twining their fingers through his thoughts, and not permitting him to focus on anything else. His eyes focused on her, but his mind was on Armand's story.

She looked ethereal in her white gown and fluttering robe, the lightening making her almost glow in its light. Not being able to think about too much to say, he decided to act.

The last thing she ever expected was to feel a pair of arms wrap around her waist and pull her flush against a chest. Warmth and a strong scent that had become so familiar to her made Hitomi relax in the strange embrace. She sucked in a surprised breath when he gently nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck.

She had her arms crossed against her chest and with this sudden contact; Hitomi wasn't sure what to think.

He came back to her, but to love her?

That's one road he had a problem traveling again. As her smaller hands, gently overlapped his, Van knew this was going to be a true battle of will for him and his heart.


	19. It was only

**Chapter 19**

* * *

"Do you really think Atlantians were real or just a child's tale?" Hitomi asked, as she looped another wild flower into her handmade crown.

Rai had been driving the residents of the palace insane while making them live in fear of sitting on any of the furniture. Every time anyone tried to sit on a chair, have a bit to eat, or anything normal, the old maid would start fussing about how she just fluffed, cleaned, or scrubbed that particular area.

Armand was roped into helping clean and prepare for the guests, Merle had disappeared into the woods in a blink of an eye, and just for respect of their positions the King and Queen were politely requested to enjoy the grounds— which was about a 'please' and 'thank you' from being kicked out of their own home.

"Well?" Hitomi pushed, turning back to see Van still lying with his arms crossed behind his head staring up at the sky.

"What does it matter?" He flinched at her question, but was going to try to play the calm and cool card by acting indifferent to the subject.

She shrugged, and plucked a bright and cheerful red flower for the center of her crown.

"I was just curious."

These would be the last of the flowers to bloom before the chill set over the land for the winter.

"My mother used to tell me a lot of tales about them, but she told me never to tell any of my friends. They thought that it would be evil or something akin to that."

He cracked open a dark eye, peering at her back to try and read her body language.

"Why so curious?"

Another shrug.

"I just was wondering what you thought." With a smile, she held up her flower crown. Perfect! "Sit up for a moment."

Obediently, the king responded and pushed himself to a sitting position while leaning on his arms for support. She gave him a brief smile before reaching up and arranging her small crown on his head. His eyes went up to see a flower droop in front of his face.

His expression was priceless as he leaned forward more, to relieve his arms and touched his new crown. Those garnet eyes were wide and nearly going cross as he stared at the ring of flowers. All it took was for him to make eye contact with Hitomi before all the laughter she was trying to hold back spilled out.

She couldn't get control of her laughter and for a moment, Van looked somewhat insulted, then smiled at her and shook his head. There were tears leaking out of the corner of her eyes as she held her stomach and was thankful she was already on her knees or she'd have dropped to the ground like a fish.

At least she didn't put a flower through the handle of his sword. Sighing, he reached up to take off the silly looking creation.

"N-no!" Hitomi managed to choke out, holding one hand to her face trying to hide her wide smile. "Don't take it off!"

"Why not?" Van wanted to know, he didn't look like a king. He actually looked like some type of insane fairy with a power complex. "This is ridiculous."

"But you look so cute!" Hitomi chirped happily, her wet cheeks turning slightly pink as her giggles persisted. Van wasn't one who wished to be known as 'cute' but shook his head and let Hitomi have her laugh.

It was nice to see her relaxed instead of muttering and sleepless. The bags under her eyes were almost cleared up from the past few nights of her being able to get a full night of sleep. Since he disclosed that Chid was coming to Fanelia, he was worried she'd go into another stressful state. Instead, her nightmares seemed to have ebbed completely, though she did act a bit funny around him, especially when they were alone in their room. She'd jump every time he moved and laugh nervously when he'd ask why.

It was the first cold drop on his nose that made Van jerk to the present and to notice Hitomi's wide eyed stare up at the sky with one hand held out palm up.

"It's starting to rain," she mentioned casually.

Not really wanting to have a shrieking Rai in his ear, the King jumped to his feet and brushed off his pants. Holding out his hand to his wife, he assisted her up. "I don't think tracking mud through the halls will be appreciated."

Realization dawned in Hitomi's eyes as she nodded firmly and allowed him to lead her away from the field. Van made a beeline to the closest building that offered cover, which happened to be the horse stables. The sooner they were out of the elements the quicker they could dry off and avoid an angry maid.

"I can't wait to hear what Armand has to say about this," Hitomi smiled up at Van, "his imagination can just be so—colorful."

Van tipped his head, not fully understanding until she began to ring out her clothes.

Aw, they were soaking wet. Of course, the knight had a troublesome way of being suggestive when no one asked him to be. Seeing his wife dripping wet, laughing, and generally happy, his mind back tracked to the time when they were both in the pond, cooling off from the summer heat. She'd been so happy then to, like there wasn't anything wrong with the world or at least in her world.

Hitomi looked at him, confused by his sudden silence. She gave a smaller smile as she reached up to his face, brushing back the stubborn bangs.

Van remembered what he had wanted to do the last time she'd touched him like this. It was an urge that was overshadowed by a memory, but this time was different, this time the urge over took the memory. Lifting her chin gently with his fingertips, Van forced her to look him in the eye. Puzzlement was obvious in her face, but when he slowly began to move toward her, her cheeks splashed with a rosy pink color.

She understood and she wasn't pulling away.

Not wanting to chance her suddenly having a change of heart, Van lowered his mouth to hers gently. It wasn't something that would cause the water to turn into steam, but it still was. When she didn't pull away after the initial touch, Van moved his hands slowly to her shoulders and kept them there as Hitomi's arms wrapped around his waist, stepping closer as the kiss lost its shyness.

A slight tilt of her head and the kiss became stronger, though neither of them was brave enough to open their mouths; it was still a big leap for the two.

Hitomi felt her knees go weak as the ground seemed to disappear beneath her. Gods, was it supposed to feel like this? She wasn't sure if she was going to faint or sprout wings.

When nerves got the best of him Van pulled back, opening his eyes slowly. Hitomi stared up at him, her green eyes almost _glowing_ with emotion. He moved his hands from her shoulders to her back, capturing in a loose hug.

As if too much movement would break the strange setting, Van rested his forehead on Hitomi's and held her close. Though both were cold and wet, their body heat still melded together, warming up where they were touching.

Hitomi clung to his red shirt, she breathed in his scent that was only touched a bit by the sweet smell of flowers. This was their second kiss, the first being at the altar, but this one was different. The first was cold and nothing more than a show of acceptance to the kingdom that they were a couple, come insane family members or jaded pasts. This time it had been private, no show, no anyone to push them toward it. It was a mutual decision between both.

Her heart started to burn like it did in Slena. It was a peaceful fire.

She opened her eyes to observe his expression. His eyes were still closed, his eyebrows lowered slightly, almost as if he were preventing from being in a scowl as his mouth was set in a small line of uncertainty. Maybe he was just confused?

Then he opened his eyes slowly meeting hers and the pain and sadness was undeniable. They were both surprised when she pushed away from him, her eyes stinging from the sudden pain in her heart, yet burning refused to go away, but it lessened.

Without a word, the Queen broke away from him completely and before the first tears could fall from her eyes, she ran off.

Van called after her, but it was too late. He grabbed a fist full of his bangs and felt like hitting himself repeatedly with a blunt object. Just when they were getting closer he screwed it up by kissing her!

He was just taking Armand's advice!

* * *

Armand had been sweeping part of the main hall, under his mother's order, when the soaking wet Queen ran by him. He would have been curious, but when his mother came in and accused him of getting the floor wet and muddy, he was more frustrated than curious.

After he was able to mop up the Queen's mess, the King came dragging in. One look at the man and Armand glared. He was just as wet and was also depositing mud and hay over his twice cleaned floor! Without a word, Van had headed toward the practice rooms.

Merle had come down hissing about a blonde with no regards for a girl's personal tail and suddenly the puzzle pieces were starting to make sense.

Armand huffed as he climbed the steps. He had not been able to break away from the high dictator of cleaning until after midnight, though the knight seriously doubted Van was sleeping.

As he took the final step and reached the roof, he was rewarded with the sight of his King diligently fencing an imaginary opponent.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Oh," Armand nodded, crossed his arms and rested against one of the pillars. "So, the Queen's crying is because of nothing."

Van winced. She was crying? That made the feeling in his stomach even more unpalatable.

"So, you did nothing. Then I guess that's all I should ever need to know," Armand pushed off the pillar, bowed to his lord, and turned to go.

"We kissed," Van sheathed his sword and sat crossed-legged on the railing. "All she did was _look_ at me afterward and took off. I didn't _have_ to say anything to scare her away." He had stood there in the barn, thinking, and rethinking what could make her run away until dark.

There was _no way_ Armand was going to get personal enough with the King to ask about his kissing abilities, so the man went a different route.

"What were you thinking about?" Armand questioned, not believing the Queen was the one with the secret love affair. Who would she have it with? Him? _Hardly_.

"About," Van's shifted his eyes away, not wanting the hurt to be seen, "someone else."

"You were kissing one girl and thinking about _another_!" Armand stepped back as if the king just said he was going to skin a kitten alive. "Tell me it wasn't _that_ one who you were thinking about."

"I couldn't help it," Van admitted guiltily.

"Have you learned nothing?" Armand barked, forgetting his place. "Women are sensitive! They see one emotion in your eyes and they get hurt, scared, or whatever other unintelligent emotion is out there just to get us into trouble." He was beyond disbelief! "They _know_ when you aren't thinking about them. I don't know _how_— it's like a built in magic they have."

One of Van's eyebrows quirked as the knight continued to rant about the mysterious creature that was named woman.

"Why, _why_ why! Why did you think of _her_ at a moment like _that_?"

Van wasn't happy about being called out on something he was already feeling low about. Also, the fact Armand was going to the door of, but not completely kicking it down, of calling him an idiot didn't help much either.

"When did you become a professional of relationships?" Van asked bitterly, trying to get the over dramatic knight back on track.

"I have _six_ sisters, I think I know a thing or two about women that _I_ am not involved with romantically." Armand face-palmed himself and muttered incoherently before he groaned out a, "your majesty." The brunette man realized his lack of respect could get him into trouble and no matter what half the females in the castle insisted, he was not a fool.

"Then what should I do? Tell her? Tell her the truth about everything? Have her run away too?" Van's voice dipped into a cold river of disdain then slapped the knight upside the head with an icy blow. "Is that your great advice?"

He was livid. Maybe it wasn't at the knight, but at himself.

Since Armand didn't want that hate to shift to him, he sighed and shifted from his position to stand closer to his King.

"You are making every woman like _her_ when they aren't. The Queen deserves a chance to understand you."

Van's narrowed eyes peeked over his shoulder, not fully convinced.

"That _creature_ was wrong, but maybe she was the exception, and not the rule."

Van huffed and turned away, he heard another deep sigh before Armand moved away and finally back down the steps.

What did that knight know? He was _normal_. Van wasn't. It was always so painfully clear that Van _wasn't_.

Annoyed with thinking about this too much, Van unsheathed his sword and began to spar with the shadows and moonbeams again.


	20. Princess

**Chapter 20**

* * *

Hitomi wasn't sure what to do with herself.

For one, her lips tingled every time she thought about the kiss. Secretly it was something she had wanted for a while, but would never dare mention to Van. What would he do? Nearly die from lack of blood as he went pale?

Then there was the night she couldn't account for, the night when she got drunk, and woke up in bed. Hitomi still hadn't the nerve to ask about _that _again. The kiss though, her mind always went back to the kiss. It made her smile and let that warm feeling build up within her.

Then came the memory of his eyes. He'd seemed so _torn_, so lost. Maybe he didn't care for her after all. Maybe it was just his personal war of honor versus want that battled on. He wanted to leave her alone, but his honor demanded an heir (not to mention the kingdom would as well). If it was just an honor motion, then at least he wasn't attacking her in the middle of the night.

Tears gathered in the bottom of Hitomi's green eyes. It wasn't right! This wasn't fair! When her father 'sold' her off to the prince, she never imagined being the one up all night with a broken heart. The blonde _had_ figured she would eventually have to aid in making an heir, but she had hoped they'd at least like each other first.

They seemed to but then why that look? Did he hate her? Did he still hold a grudge because he couldn't choose his own bride?

Is this how Ana felt? Bound between what everyone said she was supposed to do, and what she really wanted to do. Hitomi shook her head; her baby sister had more courage than she ever could. Then again, how long did she want to sit around waiting for Van to talk to her?

Maybe he'd hate her or he might not talk to her for a very long time? Balling her fists, Hitomi screwed her mouth into a frown. He was noted for being hot-headed, stubborn, and prone to thinking with his sword instead of diplomatically, however he was being timid, dare she think, cowardly about this ordeal.

If she was the reason he was miserable, at least he could tell her why!

Fueled by this new passion, the Fanel woman jumped to her feet, intent on finding her rather obstinate husband and gaining some insight into his rather shadowy mind. The only thing that stopped her from storming out into the hall in the dead of night was Van coming through the door.

She was startled at the sudden click of the door and her mind went blank of all the strong words she had conjured up as he shut the door behind him. He kept his head down, refusing to make eye contact. Hitomi wanted nothing more than to stomp like a child and hit him on the arm until he answered her.

Standing in front of the fire, he rested a forearm on the mantel and popped his neck back and forth. What was it she wanted to say?

Whenever he was like this, tall, dark and silent, he had an intimidation factor that was hard to over look. Regardless of what happened, she still found Van highly attractive and with the healthy glow the fire was giving him, she couldn't really remember her anger.

_Get it together! _Hitomi fussed herself. If she let her fear or her attraction get the best of her she'd end up with another Ana story on her hands. Just the thought of her sister, miserable and waiting for acceptance, made the anger ebb.

Was it always this hard? Relationships between men and women, were they always this hard? She couldn't get the look in Van's eyes out of her head. It was just like Ana's— sad and longing. Perhaps he really was in love with someone? Maybe he was in love and was denied the chance because of their marriage?

There was only one way to find out for sure, and that was to dare to be brave.

"You have the same eyes," Hitomi said in a hushed voice, "The same look she used to have before she left us." Her voice was less sure than she would actually have liked, but all the crying and thinking took its toll.

Van turned his attention to her, "Who?"

"M-my sister, Ana." Glancing up at Van, she gave him a weak smile wondering where all her fiery courage had disappeared to. "She left us. She left my family because of that look. She fell in love and they wouldn't be happy for her." Hitomi's voice was breaking, "so she left us and never came back."

Van's black eyebrows rose like twin ravens on his forehead. This was the first time he had ever heard about any other sister than her older one, Leiko. Help them all if there were two like Leiko.

"We did it to her. We put that sadness in her eyes." Hitomi's tears started to trickle down her cheeks as she blinked. She felt her shoulders start to shake, her throat tightening making it near impossible to breathe or to speak, but she forced herself to swallow the hurt. She needed to say this, needed to assure him in a way she wasn't sure would work, but Hitomi could only hope this would do the trick. "And… I see it. I see it in your eyes."

Her reaction was to grab fistfuls her night dress and grip it as hard as she could. This was one of the most painful subjects and Hitomi wasn't ready to open up and bare all of her scars yet, but this would at least be a start. Mena said it would be for the best, but was that true?

The tears flowed in smooth, clear paths down her pale cheeks.

"I want to know, Van. I want to know—who put that same look in your eyes," she reached to his face, and cupped it with on hand. He was shaking a little, and she knew it hurt them both to bring this up.

"Who Van, who or _what_ put that sadness in_ your_ eyes?"

Van didn't know how to react to this. He hadn't planned on bringing up the subject of his past tonight because of the humiliation and pain that footnoted the story, but nothing hurt more than Hitomi's next question.

"Was it me? Did I make you that miserable?" She removed her hand and stepped back. "I know neither of us wanted to be married to a stranger—"

"No, you didn't do anything," Van answered, unhooking his belt and sliding it through the loops of his pants. He really, _reall_y didn't want to do this. Why now? He wanted to wait until she was deaf or he was senile.

"Then who did?" Hitomi prodded, daring to come closer to him again. His back was to her, his shoulders square, as if he were ready for a battle.

He swallowed, hard. The room seemed to get cold, even as he stayed by the fireplace. Where was everyone when you needed to be interrupted? Oh, that's right, it was well past midnight and everybody, but bar flies, were in bed.

"Is it that important to you?" His voice was rougher than normal Hitomi noted.

"It must be to you, so why not tell me?" She bit her lip, trying to make sure her words extracted the truth instead of pushing it further back into the pit of mystery that was Van's heart.

Damn it! He wasn't good at stuff like this, never had been!

"It's-not that easy." He ran a gloved hand through his sweat soaked hair. "You wouldn't understand."

"I'm not going anywhere until I do," Hitomi stated firmly, though her voice was still a bit weak.

That sounded like something _she_ had said before she turned her nose up at him.

"How can I believe that?" He asked in a gruff voice, somewhere between morbid curiosity and masochistic pleasure.

Hitomi felt herself becoming irked. When he decided to be thick headed, he held nothing back! Actually, he held everything back, but that was the point, wasn't it? She snapped herself back to the present and glared down at her hands. How was she going to make him understand? She wasn't going anywhere, if she was going to leave, where would she go that would free her from this?

"It might have been forced," Hitomi started, clutching her hands tightly, "but it means I gave my word." She couldn't think of anything, but bringing up this fact. "On your left hand, Van, that's proof of my word I'm not going to leave you." Was this as corny to him as it was to her?

Van glanced down at his left hand and though the gloves hide it rather well, there was still a slight bump at the base of his left ring finger. The wedding band. It was a promise she wouldn't leave him, but what if she hated him? Being forced to live with someone who hated you was much worse than living with someone who only liked you.

Throwing his belt to the side and placing his sword down on a chair next to the fireplace, he just reminded himself about _how _much he didn't want to think about this. Then again, it had been months in the making.

"Van?"

"I was sixteen," he started, sighing deeply. He might not want to do this, but if it would make her happy— even if it was for a short time. Hitomi waited for him to continue, shocked that he was actually going to open up to her.

"She was, I think, about 15. We met a few months after my brother's reported death. He was the last of my family. My parents had died a few years before. I was all alone. There was Merle, but I needed someone I could talk to on my level, who could share and understand what I was going through. Merle, I didn't want her to be troubled with my problems and hers."

_They had met through a common acquaintance, Lord Alcom, at Fanelia's annual ball held every late fall, before the winter frost came. She was beautiful. Breathtaking features, perfectly arranged on smooth skin with soft looking, loose flowing curls._

_Van couldn't help but gap at her as the introductions were made. She was stunning, that was the one thought that went through his mind over and over. When she laughed, it was almost like music, a true lady born and bred._

_When Van couldn't respond to any of her questions because of his mouth hanging slightly open, she had smiled and used the tips of her gloved fingers to gently shut it._

_"I think his lordship fancies me," she suggested, laughing again when Van felt a blush touch his cheeks. Through a complete haze, he asked her to dance and this stirred attention throughout the room._

_The girls who had been hanging on his every word, waiting for him to ask them the very same question nearly turned pea green with jealousy. The council members from Fanelia chuckled, and a few winks and nods were made in the couple's direction._

_She was the first one who Van had shown any interest in since his brother's untimely departure. It took a few minutes of conversation with the girl's guardians before an agreement was met. They couldn't jump into an engagement and scare the young prince or the princess, but by extending her stay, there surely wouldn't be a problem with them spending more time together._

_At first, after the ball, she seemed chilly toward him. Van slowly began to pull away from her and then just like a coin flipping in the air, she suddenly became warmer than the sun. She listened to everything he had to say, attended every single function on his arm, and gave him her full attention._

_The council couldn't have been happier and neither could Van. She was a goddess! Sweet, caring, charming, beautiful, thoughtful, and the list just went on and on. Merle had rolled her eyes, sick of hearing nonstop praise of the Princess._

"I was so blinded; I didn't even realize I was just a pawn in her game," He clamped his eyes shut, his eyebrows knotting together in the middle of his forehead. "Before I'd known it, we had all fallen into her game. I led my kingdom down a very destructive path or I would've. It didn't take long before I was asked about a more permanent arrangement with the princess."

_"They suggested that?" She gasped, coming to a dead stop on the path they were walking on the outskirts of town._

_Van's cheeks went a slight red hue before he was able to give one jerky nod._

_"That's wonderful!" Without warning, she wrapped her thin arms around his waist and pulled him close to her. Van's mahogany eyes snapped open wide; this was the first physical contact they had of this kind. They had held hands, locked arms, and various small touches but nothing this forthright._

_"It is?" Van questioned, turning around in her embrace._

_She smiled that perfect smile up at him and nodded, "Of course it is," she bit her lip, and cast her eyes to the side. "I—I love you, Van. I want to be with you."_

_His heart melted, the concrete walls of loneliness were blown to a million pieces within a heartbeat. Here was this perfect creature saying that she loved him. It didn't take long, and she offered no resistance as his lips came down upon hers. _

Van, who now sat on the chair with his sword, kept his head down and his elbows on his knees with his feet apart. He didn't see Hitomi flinch at the mention of a kiss. At least she knew who he was seeing when he was kissing her, and the tears started to give a burning threat of falling.

"Our engagement was about to be announced to the whole kingdom. Though most had concluded what was going to happen since she had been in the castle for four months straight," Van's voice was thick with emotion, pain so raw that Hitomi was afraid he was going to start bleeding from an old scar at any moment. "I completely trusted her, _completely_."

_It was hard, so hard, to stay in control. After Van had told the council the princess agreed, they celebrated and Van insisted that they give the couple a few months to adjust to the situation before announcing it publicly. When he told her this the reaction was a bit surprising. She seemed angry about him wanting to wait._

_"Are you ashamed of me?" She asked, her eyes narrow and her words sharp with mirth. "I thought you loved me, Van. Why wouldn't you want everyone to know right away?"_

_"This if for the best, we can learn more about each other before we have all of our time absorbed into wedding plans."_

_She tightened her hand into a fist so hard that her knuckles turned white. Was she that eager to marry him?_

_"Fine," she purred, flipping her attitude. Slowly, the girl drew closer to the black haired prince, wrapped her arms around him and dragged him into a very intense kiss. Van pulled back after a few moments, breathless, and weak kneed._

_"Wow," was all he could breathe._

_"And it gets better," she brought him down for another kiss._

Hitomi _really_ didn't want to hear about _this_. Him kissing this princess was one thing, but going into a full explanation of what _else _they did made her let out a noise. It was one of shock or something akin to it.

"I'm not sure I want to hear about this," she admitted honestly.

"You asked," Van reminded, his voice still deep and depressed.

"But I didn't think you-you-that you shared a bed with her!" Hitomi sat down on the hope chest at the foot of their bed. Oh gods, was it _this_ bed that he—that they—Gah! Shaking her head as if to clear her mind from such thoughts she grunted at herself softly. She had wanted to know.

"We didn't do anything," Van stated. "_You_ are the only one who I've ever shared a bed with in any way." There wasn't a single hint of embarrassment in his voice, but Hitomi reacted with a slight flush and feeling of foolishness.

"So you…didn't? Never?"

"No," Van punched the word out. "But she seemed to be more insistent than was proper for a lady of her stature."

_Flushed and hot, she picked herself off of her fiancé and glared down at him. _

_"Why won't you touch me, Van?" _

_They were in the library where he had been reading about military tactics when she had come in, locked the door behind her, and attacked him in a storm of kisses. She left open mouthed kisses along his neck, nipped his ears, and rubbed her body in a way that couldn't make Van see straight._

_His hand still gripped the book, as the other held on to the armrest for dear life. It had only been a few weeks before the engagement would be announced, and she had been more and more physically attentive than normal._

_Every day she would become pushier about this. Van was uncomfortable with doing what she wanted and always skirted around it in one manner or another._

_"The law won't allow it," Van explained through his haze._

_"What?" She questioned, almost with a comical note in her voice._

_"T-to ensure an heir proper, the Fanelian laws are strict about celibacy before marriage." She leapt up and off of him, allowing him to recapture a fraction of his composure. "Fidelity is promised during the marriage ceremony and is also part of the law upon the Fanelian royalty."_

_She pouted, "but you are going to marry me, so what would be wrong with speeding up the process?" She gave her coy smile and traced his lips gingerly with her fingertips._

_"Because it isn't right."_

_"But you love me, don't you?" Her pestering about his feelings always came around when he denied her._

_"Yes," he answered plainly. She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side._

_"Then why don't you show me how much," sitting down next to him on the couch, she gently reached up and brushed away his bangs so she was able to see his bright eyes clearly. "I won't hurt you, Van."_

_He was never so thrilled to see the man as when Armand came running into the room, quickly apologized, and then spread the good news that he was soon to be a father! The prince leapt at the opportunity to rid himself of temptation and instantly engaged the knight about the details of how long until the birth and other such questions._

"Armand has a child?" Hitomi couldn't believe a cream puff like Armand would be able to trick any woman into having his child.

"No, he _had_ a child," Van chanced a quick glance at his bride and saw her staring back at him, her eyes brimming with questions, "and a wife."

Before the Queen could be distracted by the new information, Van pulled off his gloves and the wedding band flashing like fire on his hand when the light hit it.

"Why was the engagement broken?"

His eyes closed again, discarding his gloves on the top of one of the tables by the wash basin. He kept his back to her. He couldn't tell her _that_. She might not be scared of the children's tales, but the real thing? He couldn't go through that again; Van couldn't chance being _that _open again.

He couldn't lose another woman because of his bloodline.

"She found out something about me that she just couldn't over look."

_"Why didn't you tell me?" She sneered, recoiling from him as if he was a viper. He stood in front of her, his curse spread out behind him._

_"I thought it wouldn't matter."_

_"Wouldn't matter?" That pretty face that he had kissed, been kissed by, and mesmerized for five months and some odd weeks had never held so much disgust and hate as it did right then. "You're—a MONSTER."_

_"What does it matter?" He snapped. "You look past the bad parts of a person if you love them."_

_She scoffed, and then started to laugh with such mirth it chilled him to the bone. _

_"Love you? LOVE you? I might have if you were human, but knowing that you are a creature, no better than a snake or spider, how can anyone love an abomination?"_

"How could anyone ever say that?" Hitomi wondered out loud.

_Poor Van,_ was all she could think.

He obviously had really cared about this girl and then, when the chips were down, she'd thrown him in the mud and called him garbage. Not even clean garbage, more like the type of garbage that even insects won't go near because it smells so bad.

"Because it is true," Van admitted, attempting to let the old scaring words roll off his back. How masculine was it to let something this old still affect him _this_ much? Not very.

"No, it isn't!" Hitomi pitched in, climbed to her feet, made her way to Van, and gently touched him on the shoulder. His muscles tensed under her touch. "I don't know what scared her, but you aren't an abomination, Van."

_You're beautiful, _Hitomi whispered in her mind, but there was no way she was going to tell him that at this moment. What would a proud male like Van do with those words? Probably even feel worse because they seemed so girly.

"What scared her?" Hitomi asked, this time Van gave a grave look.

"Right now, it doesn't matter."

"There's more?" Hitomi would have understood his pain with just the story so far. He was really in love with the selfish, cruel princess and she had just been using him.

"Yes," Van hesitated, shaking his head slowly. "When we broke off the engagement, things got worse."

_It was only a few weeks after the princess went back to her own kingdom. Both councils were at a complete loss as to why such a happy couple would break up like a vase on stone. Thankfully, there wasn't a public announcement of the engagement or another circus would have been taken place to retract that statement._

_Van had been, at best, severely depressed. He was alone now more than ever. Maybe it was his curse to be surrounded by people who he wanted to protect, but to never interact with them. The servants at the castle had been little help._

_They had been empathetic to his plight and even dared to make fun of the princess in hopes of making him crack a smile on his stone face. His heart, gods, he would love to just rip it out. Anything! As long as he didn't have to feel this pain ever again!_

_She told him repeatedly that she loved him and him her. Then the words of their farewell were coating all those times. The hate in her eyes, the condescension in her voice the sneer on her lips. She had transformed into a completely different person in a less than two minutes._

_What was the real her, though? The beautiful or hateful? Even after she left, Van hung on, believing that she was only in shock, and that her ugly side took control. Surely she'd come back._

_He was going to die without her._

_She had to come back._

_And she did._

_But it wasn't like he pictured. A few months after her departure, she had come back with a few of her senior council members. There was a smirk spread across her face like a fat cat that just spotted a humdinger of a canary for lunch._

_"We would like to reinstate the engagement," The council member spoke to Van._

_Van's expression stayed unmoved and collected. He wasn't going to let any of his feelings show. The two months apart from her had been painful and though he was hopeful, all the love he had for her slowly morphed into a form of hate._

_"No."_

_"But according to your laws, you will have to," the princess spoke up at last. "You told me once that a king has to stay pure in order to ensure an heir. Once you have become— tainted, you have to marry that woman. I'm demanding that you act on that law."_

_"What are you-?" A Fanelian member asked, having a pretty good guess but wanting confirmation._

_"I'm saying that Prince Van and I have bedded together, on my previous stay here." That smirk, that damn smirk!_

_"That's a lie!" Van shouted, climbing quickly to his feet. "I never did any such thing!"_

_"How many times were we alone, love?" He wanted to growl at that pet name. She had nerve, coming back here just to claim such an outrageous thing. "Especially without a chaperon?"_

_His eyes blazed with so much hate toward this one being in front of him he was sure he would melt._

_She continued to give him that same icy smirk._

_"You have no proof to back up such a claim."_

_"There is no need of proof," Van whirled around to the man who had spoken, "nothing of that nature occurred between she and I!"_

_"Why would a prestigious lady such as the princess ever concoct such a story?" The younger member puffed up, "no lady would dare to tarnish her reputation in such a manner!"_

_"Unless she wanted something," An extra voice chipped in from the Fanelia side._

_"I would never lie about something like this," the princess suddenly turned watery eyed and began to sniffle._

_Van wasn't going to fall for her act again. If she was capable of such deception now, what would she do if she were his wife? What indignities would Fanelia suffer under her manipulative nails?_

_"This discussion is over," Van admonished. "It is your word against mine and I refuse to be usurped in my own kingdom." _

_Sitting down on the throne again, his eyes turned into slits giving off a deadly glare. "You know the truth, as do I. Nothing ever took place between us and nothing ever will."_

_"You refuse to honor our princess?" Another member barked, "this could mean war!"_

_Van, unfazed by this outcry, leaned forward, and repeated that the conversation was over. She was not happy, but with nothing else to be said, they obeyed the prince._

"They never declared war and no one ever knew about the incident. It might not seem like much to someone who was raised outside of a royal position, but such a rumor could be crippling," Van's hands tightened into fists. "She couldn't let it be, she had to ruin everything."

Hitomi remained silent.

"She came from a very powerful family; all it would have taken to start a conflict was for her to say something of the quality she told us. Her kingdom has many allies, Fanelia would have been crushed," he turned to Hitomi, who was only a few feet from him.

"When the time came for me to start seeking a bride I still had _her_ in my head, and all she did. I thought she might be rare, that she might be one of the only ones who were so cold and cruel. I was wrong. Every girl, no matter what title they held, was just as desperate to be Queen for their own gain, not because they cared about the kingdom." Van's eyes were blazing bright red, as if the fire had been stored up behind his eyes.

"Or you?" Hitomi questioned softly, Van cast a glance at her before nodding.

"They were all willing to pretend, but I didn't want to punish Fanelia," Van clarified. "My people are the most important thing to me."

He expected her to snort, to laugh, or to simply roll her eyes and say 'that's all'. It wouldn't seem like much to someone who hadn't gone through it, but it was dreadfully painful to him. Van stopped in front of her, allowing whatever emotions she was displaying to play out in front of him with no shame.

Her head was lowered, her shoulders gently shaking. She was _laughing_! It stung, he thought she would be a bit more sympathetic than all that! His bitter mind began to pound on his regret, making it raw and sore. Van knew he should have known better!

Then she looked up, tears in her eyes—she was crying!

…for him?

Something twisted in his heart, but he couldn't allow that to happen. Not again!

"That's why," his eyes didn't waver, but gods she wished they would've at that moment. "I will not love again."


	21. Liar!

**Chapter 21**

* * *

"Liar," Hitomi stapled her word with a quick jump to her feet. "If that were true you wouldn't have told me everything."

Van stood back, eyes widened, and eyebrows shot straight up his forehead.

The queen's arms folded across her belly as she stared at her husband through watery eyes. True, his words had stung her, stabbed her—okay, it ripped her heart open and emptied it out. Instead of crying in a corner, her heart persisted it couldn't be true, his words couldn't be true.

"I never lied," Van asserted strongly, but the defense was weak.

"You did, just now. How can you say something like that?" Taking a deep breath she set her mouth and her mind to the task. "I think you are a good person, you've been hurt, but you're still good. If you thought love was not in your future, you would have," she paused searching for the appropriate word, "_secured _an heir the first night we were married!"

Van made a noise of disgust in the back of his throat, "It doesn't mean anything more than I don't believe it is right to force myself upon anyone."

"And all the other times? I've hardly been apart from you since we were married. You've always worried about me and the others. You care about your people, if you didn't think love was possible anymore, you'd be a real jerk."

Not saying he wasn't being one right then, but bringing up that point would have been counterproductive.

Van was taken aback by this sudden change in emotion from her. He expected her to cry or to be cruel, but mad and defensive? She had the nerve to assume he was lying about a decision he reached many years ago!

Hitomi sucked in another deep breath and he knew this wasn't over.

"You may never love _me_, but you'll love someone again, Van. You already love your people and they love you," she softened her voice as she took a step closer to him. "And what about whenever an heir does come along? Will you not love your own child?" If she had been thinking with a well rested mind, she probably would have been embarrassed over the touchy baby topic.

His eyebrows crashed together. It was late, he was tired and sore from retelling his horror story, but that didn't mean he was going to be belittled by her!

"That's different!"

"Why? Does that type of love go into of come from a separate heart?"

They engaged in a childish glaring contest after she spoke.

This is what it was like to open up to someone? Have them say how wrong it was to feel what was felt? That was absurd! She was insane! She was—turning and walking away.

"Where are you going?"

"To some other place," she replied, glancing over her shoulder. "You're not my favorite person right now."

Van's mouth hung open slightly as she quietly shut the door behind her.

What the _fire_ just happened here? She was moody? _She_ was the one who got angry at _him_ for something as simple as saying he wasn't going to love again?

Of _course _he loved his people! If he didn't he would have married the first harpy who nested in his castle. Too fueled by his irritation and complete lack of understanding of the opposite and potentially insane sex, he decided the roof tops were sounding just about the right place to be. Grabbing his sword, Van headed for the door.

* * *

Hitomi, once she had found a spare bedroom, crumpled like a tissue. She was highly upset, not really angry, about the ignorant thing Van said. How could anyone in his or her right mind ever say they would never love again? They'd have to give up all hope and become suicidal. Van wasn't like that!

He was just _scared_ and that irked her in a way that shouldn't have been possible. He was running away from things, saying he wasn't going to love when everyone knew love couldn't be controlled. If Van was telling the truth about his lack of wanting to care, he would be a real creep, an insufferable jerk.

"That idiot," she repeated over and over as she sat with her back to the door, knees drawn to her chest, and leaned her head into her hands. The room was cold since no fire was burning and the balcony doors were left open, letting the icy breeze flirt with the curtains.

Hitomi couldn't say truthfully if it was his words, his story, or her heart that hurt her more.

True, they weren't the closest friends, but she had been around him a great deal since they had been married. She had seen him relating to others such as his subjects, knights, and servants. He was never cruel to them, never raised a hand, or his voice toward them.

There were times, too, when they were alone and she saw his 'soft' side. The side of him that wasn't calculating how to keep a country running, how to prevent two disgruntled parties from slaying each other, sword techniques, and all the normal things that kings thought about. In the field of flowers, she had been so sure there was something between them.

In the barn, when he kissed her…she had felt something from him. He wouldn't do that if he really didn't care, would he? Even though the emotion in his eyes weren't expected at the end, the beginning—his eyes told a completely different story.

No one could control love or who loved who, and sadly Hitomi was learning that all too well.

* * *

"Are you purposefully trying to resemble something dropped from a sick dog's behind?" Armand questioned light heartedly to the Queen.

Hitomi's cheeks puffed up as she pinched her lips between her teeth to keep a nasty comment from coming out of her mouth.

"Where's his majesty?" Rai stared at Hitomi, waiting for an answer.

"I don't care," the blonde spat out, turning her face away sharply.

Two sets of eyebrows went up at the declaration. Armand knew he should have kept his eyes down, but being the somewhat too curious for his own good, dared to look at his mother. Her eyes met his and there was an unspoken message of: Come. Here. Now.

Pretending to not see that look, he quickly turned his head away.

"If you'll be so kind, your majesty, may I borrow Sir Armand?"

Hitomi lifted an eyebrow, but gave no other kind of motion. Grumbling, the tall brunette followed his mother out the door like a whipped puppy and with a sharp click, the door shut. The queen didn't suppress the small grin as their volume could be heard behind the shut door.

Apparently the knight was getting a vicious chewing out.

There were some meager words on his behalf, but nothing Hitomi could pick out clearly. Tucking her hand under her chin, she gave a half-hearted smile and pushed her food around with her fork. The door opened and Hitomi was ready to give a cute remark to the tongue-lashed man, but lost all her words as Van entered through the second door on the far side of the dining hall. He looked up briefly before he sat down and absorbed himself into his food.

She, as Armand had the sheer joy of pointing out, looked a bit worse for wear. While Van, the perfect royal, didn't appear to have lost one minute of sleep. If it wasn't for the fight that probably would follow, she would have thrown her biscuit at him.

His eyes met hers briefly before flickering back to his plate.

"Is there something on my face?" Van inquired in his, what Hitomi could only think to call, haughty voice. It was condescending without belittling, but wanting to. Perhaps it was just a tone only a born royal could create. It grated on her nerves.

Stabbing her sliced fruit with her knife, Hitomi couldn't think of any snappy reply. She didn't want to talk to him! Prince Chid was coming today and she would have to play the part of happy-happy hostess to the young Prince.

Was this what her life had dissolved to? Pretending to be something she wasn't? Pretending to feel something else than what she really did?

"_Fix it!_" Rai's shrill brought the occupants of the room out of their own stupors and both sets of eyes focused on the door as a dejected knight marched back through them. Like a scolded kid, he stood in the corner stiff as a board and eyes twitching to glare as his mother passed by him and began to pour the king's drink.

* * *

"It's a great pleasure to see you again, Millerna," Van said politely, bowing slightly. The princess smiled and returned the greeting. Hitomi gave the other blonde a warm hug and expressed her happiness at having them come to the palace again.

"Sir Allen," Van acknowledged with a handshake. Hitomi was wide eyed when the knight took her hand and kissed the back of it lightly when it was their turn to exchange pleasantries.

"Where is the Prince?" Hitomi asked as she backed away from the knight and tried to not let her blush be _too_ noticeable.

"Yes," Millerna started, giving a nervous smile. "My nephew is currently on the air ship, we wanted to make sure everything was ready."

"Of course! We've been busy the past week for your visit!" Hitomi announced happily.

"Very well, I'll send for him." She turned to Allen, and then gave her attention back to the royal couple. "Would you mind if he met you in a smaller room? Large rooms make him…nervous."

Van agreed and told one of the butlers to escort the visitors to the first floor library, it wasn't huge, but it was far from small. Offering his arm to her, Hitomi looped hers through and drew close to her husband. It was all for looks to him, but it wasn't to her.

Once they left the throne room, Hitomi closed her eyes and sighed. She was _so pathetic. _

Armand trailed behind them like a kite tail, but a sudden movement outside caught his attention. Peering out the window he _eeped_ at what he saw. The couple turned, and he laughed it off saying that the pigs had gotten into the rose bushes.

Two strange looks later and the knight was alone.

"Oh my _gods_," Armand shrieked, his hands flying up to cover his eyes. "Who let _them _in?"

Across the courtyard came two women who the knight could have sworn were banded from the palace. Leiko and the mother of the Queen, Minerva, were making their way through the courtyard quickly. They were without a doubt two of the most colorful characters to ever climb over palace walls. What were they doing here?

He had to make sure they didn't get in! If Prince Chid was as fragile as everyone reported, those two would drive him into insanity. Given enough time with them, those two could have driven the entirety of castle into the funny farm.

Armand was able to catch them at the side door. At any given time women who have a goal in mind are scary, but Hitomi's family had a way of striking a person in such a way that Armand wasn't sure if he should laugh or consider an alternative life style when the two females started to flirt with him.

"What can I do for you two ladies?" Armand gave his most charming attitude; Minerva wasn't buying it though Leiko flirted her eyes at him.

"I came to see my darling baby sister!" Leiko pleaded, her eyes large and hands clasped in front of her. "I've simply been _lost_ without her!"

Armand's eyebrows ironed flat. What kind of chump did they take him for?

"I'm sorry, but she is engaged at the moment."

"Can you be married and engaged at the same time?" Leiko asked her mother in shock.

If it wouldn't have allowed them access, Armand wanted to ram his head into a wall because of them. Instant insanity, wasn't that what he thought would happen?

"Let us in," Minerva demanded.

"I'm afraid that is impossible," Armand tried the higher, snobbier road.

"Let me see my daughter!"

"Is there a problem?" A new voice asked. Peeking over his shoulder the women's faces brightened. Armand glowered, just what he didn't need, the knight with shinning hair, Allen.

"He won't let us in to see our darling Queen!" Minerva cried, "My own child and he refused to let me be with her!"

Allen walked closer to the group, a smile on his lips, and Armand wondering if the man had amnesia about the last time these two were allowed in the palace.

"I'll escort you to her," Allen offered both his arms and Armand rolled his eyes. Leave it to a goody-two shoes to be the ever gentleman. Both of the relatives were hanging on Allen's every word as he made his way through the halls. Armand followed them with dragging heels.

Great, first he was blamed for the King and Queen's estrangement, his mother claiming it was Armand's mouth that made something bad happen, and now he had to explain why the in-laws suddenly decided to show up.

"Here we are, my fair ladies," the two 'ladies' cooed at Allen before letting go of his arm.

"The garden?" Armand asked, eyebrows perked.

"Yes," Allen folded his arms behind him and gave a secret smile to Armand who gave a short laugh before letting the women meander through the gardens. Turning to go, both knights happy as they continued to the library—pest free.

* * *

Hitomi fiddled with her dress, not too sure what to do with herself as they waited for the guests to arrive. Van and she were the only ones in the room, Rai having already filled the place with refreshments and left.

How long did it take for someone to retrieve another person from a flying ship?

"Sorry to be late!" Armand smiled, walking in with a scary spring in his step. "We had a small pest problem."

Allen, smiling privately, came in after him with much less ceremony.

"The Prince will be here shortly, Princess Millerna thought it best to collect him herself."

Van merely gave him a glance of acknowledgement before turning his attention to the window. Armand felt sweat spring to his forehead when the King went stiff.

"Is there something wrong, you highness?" Armand asked, his voice resembling a mouse's squeak at the end of the sentence. Surely those dimly burning candles hadn't already realized there was nothing but bugs, vegetation, and _them_ in the garden.

"No," Van replied plainly. He didn't mean to lock up, but it was a natural reaction when he saw her reflection in the window's glass. She'd been staring at him for a few seconds before turning away, something akin to disappointment filtering across her face.

He wanted to say it wasn't his fault for whatever she was feeling. _She_ was the one who had asked him to tell! He told her the truth and this was his reward? To see her suffer? Did Hitomi possibly think he received a sense of pleasure from this?

Guilt swept up his heart, but Van convinced himself there was nothing he could do about it. Then a nagging question bit at him, did he _want_ anything to be done about it?

"Come this way," Millerna's soft voice beaconed from the hall, snapping the group away from their own thoughts.

Hitomi stayed to the back of the group as the men crowded around to see the blonde prince hesitantly step into the room, his hand locked around his aunt's. Large blue eyes quickly studied each face and relaxed when none of them appeared to be threatening.

"This is King Van, Chid," The boy barely acknowledged the world, much less the man once deemed harmless. The ten-year-old, nodded to the introduction and Van tipped his head in return and wondered what they could have done to such a young child to make him lock down so fiercely.

"Please forgive him, he hasn't spoken a word since-" Millerna's eyes shifted downward. There was no need for her to continue.

"This is Sir Armand; he'll be one of your attendants while you are here." Armand, new to this knowledge, had to fight down the urge to scream in denial. He already had to watch over the Queen, why did he have to play nanny to another royal?

"Your majesty," the knight gave a bow and the boy met his eyes momentarily before flickering them away to the other unfamiliar figure that approached with timid steps.

"This is the Queen of Fanelia," Millerna introduced with a smile.

"Hello, Prince," Hitomi gave her brightest smile as she bent her knees to met the young boy eye to eye. It was a highly warm and friendly gesture that coughed in the face of formality, "I'm—"

"Hitomi," Chid finished, his voice cracked and raspy from lack of use. "I know you." He let his hand slip from his aunt's as he slowly drew closer to the woman.

"Ha—have we met?" Hitomi asked, knowing all eyes were on her.

"Y-you came to see me when the bad people had me," Chid took another step closer to the woman. "You were the only one who was nice." Tears sprung to his light blue eyes seconds before he ran to the Queen and threw his arms around her neck, burying his face in her shoulder.

Frantic, the queen searched the faces of the other occupants. The two Asturians looked on with large eyes and disbelief written all over their faces. Armand, who was doubling up as a server seemed edgy. Van's eyes were widened in fearful shock.


	22. Patch Job

**Chapter 22**

* * *

Hitomi staggered into the bedroom she shared with Van with heavy lids and sore muscles. Chid had made a miraculous turn around in attitude. The boy who, according to his aunt, had been quiet and hardly moved, was now constantly chatting with the Queen and refused to let her out of his sight. It took some convincing, but she finally talked him out of wanting to share the same room as her. He proclaimed to her and to the others that with his 'angel' around, he would be safe.

When they were alone, she went into a deeper conversation about how they met. He was able to tell her dreams, every brick and blood drop that occurred. She had come to the icy realization that they weren't dreams. It was something more than a dream although Chid said she came to him when he was asleep most of the time. Maybe she had some sort of latent power that was manifesting?

That was absurd! Her? How could a normal girl made Queen due to a money hungry father be something extraordinary?

Because of Chid's constant companionship and attention, it was hard for the Queen to spend any time in the company of adults, including the guests and her husband. By the time she would wearily make her way back to their bedroom, he was either practicing or wasn't there. She considered this a double sided deal. The good and bad of it was she wouldn't have to answer any questions that might be eating at him and on the other side she wasn't allowed to talk to him.

Sighing and rubbing her sore shoulder, Hitomi sat down on the chest at the end of the bed. Chid loved to play hide-n-seek, but was horrible at the 'seeking' part and she wasn't found until hours later, stuffed in a rather small closet.

Standing to her feet, she quickly found her night dress and began the task of getting dressed for bed. It was getting cooler, but the bed was covered with a thick coverlet that made any other night gown but her thin summer one nearly unbearable. Thankfully, Armand had pestered himself with another task, mainly trying to keep track of the royal duo, and hadn't been able to yell and carry on about her lack of fashion sense. Slipping off her simple long sleeved dress, Hitomi couldn't help but smile at the thought.

She had the nightgown in her hands when she heard a door open, whirled around, and made eye contact with the wet, raven haired man. Although she was standing in nothing but her underwear, he was standing just as wide eyed in only towel.

Both of them blushed furiously before he slipped back into the bathing room and she scampered behind a chair to hide. Quickly tugging on her gown, she couldn't help but feel happily awkward about the incident. She had been given a pretty fair view of him before, but the towel allowed more to show and for some reason wet guys were just so much more appealing.

Besides all that, she smiled as her cheeks darkened. He had gotten a pretty good look at her. She felt like such a pervert for ogling, but when _he_ did it, she felt even more like one.

Sighing and deciding to brush away any confusion for the night, the girl made her way to the bed and unceremoniously flopped down into its softness. Cuddling up with her favorite pillow, Hitomi wiggled under her covers and smiled contently.

The bathroom door opened again, there was soft sound of some of the candles being extinguished, and then she felt, rather than heard, when Van laid down in the bed.

Having him so close, close enough to talk to, she felt as if something icky in her stomach had grown. Chid had distracted her from Van and her current problems.

"Sorry," Van said softly, shifting into a comfortable position. "I hadn't expected you to be here."

Hitomi flipped over smoothly, and for now, he didn't have his back to her. Instead, his eyes were closed and his arms were draped across his stomach. The firelight made his tan darken, and splashed his dark hair with orange and red streaks.

There was something she wanted to say, but nothing wanted to come. He was still tense, ready to leap from the bed at the drop of a mouse. Hitomi turned her face away from him, closing her eyes tightly. It was pointless to try right now, anything she said would only come out wrong.

"How did Chid know you?"

That snapped her eyes open so quickly she swore they should have made a sound.

"What?"

"Chid knew you, did you ever meet him before?" Being brave, she turned to look at him, this time he was facing her, cinnamon eyes blazing red from the firelight. He almost looked demonic, alluring, yet giving off a glow of danger.

That was one question she could have lived without. Sighing, the woman closed her eyes again, her eyebrows knitted together as she recalled the dreams, every painful sequence. In her mind's eye, Chid's face had always been fuzzy; hard to define which was why she didn't know him from first look.

"My nightmares," Hitomi said softly. "All those nightmares I had. I saw him, spoke to him, but thought it was just a dream." She cracked an eye open to see she had Van's full and pure attention. "They started in Slena and hadn't stopped until," her eyes widened in realization. Was she a complete air head? They started after Chid was kidnapped and stopped after he was found!

"What did you see?"

"He was being hit, hurt, and yelled at. I—I would try to protect him, but they were too strong."

Tears came to her eyes. All those awful things really happened to him!

"The last time I saw him though, well, a few of the last times, there was always someone else with us."

Van partially sat up, leaned on one elbow, while facing his wife, "do you know who it was?"

"No," Hitomi shifted to her side, to face him. "But he—was unique."

_He?_ Van questioned mentally, for some reason he had a slight problem with his wife dreaming about any other 'he'.

"What made him so special?" There was almost a childish jealousness in the last word, but Van blocked it out.

"He had wings." Van suddenly got extremely uncomfortable. "He was so-" Hitomi attempted to stifle a yawn, the constant playing catching up with her. "-beautiful. His wings were so soft," Her eyes slid shut as a smile slide up her face. "He wrapped them around us, to protect us."

Van, knowing her exhaustion was going to get the better of her, tucked the arm he had been laying on under his head, and studied the face of the woman sharing his bed.

So that was why she was interested in the legendary winged people of Gaea. She was dreaming of one of them. Hitomi seemed more in awe than in fear of them, maybe it would bode well for whenever they made that final leap. She'd probably notice wings jutting out of her baby's back.

Sighing, the man closed his eyes, prepared for sleep to over take him.

* * *

"Merle?" Armand put a gentle hand on her shoulder; the girl jumped in surprise and looked up at the tall man. All morning she had been sulking in the same spot because Lord Van kept having less and less time to spend with her. First was that _woman_ and now all the guests.

"What do you want?" She snapped, not really like being bothered while she was…well, she wasn't doing anything important, but she was still being bothered.

"I want to ask you a favor, if you don't mind."

No smart aleck remarks? No witty and biting comments? The knight must've been serious. She gave him a suspicious look, her eyes narrowed and her lips curled into a dangerous smile.

"It'll cost you."

"I figured," Armand sighed, sitting down on the windowsill next to the neko. "What's the price this time?"

She hmmed it over and gave a very bright smile when an answer hit her.

"First tell me what the favor is, and then I'll tell you my price."

"I want you to talk to the Queen." Merle instantly had an expression of having eaten a rotten, mold covered fish and sour milk for dinner. "Before you say no-"

"No!" She quickly snapped to her feet and stalked down the hall.

"Then King Van will continue to be unhappy," dramatically sighing, the knight climbed to his feet, shaking his head. "'Tis so sad."

"Lord Van _is_ happy!" Merle hissed, glaring at the knight over her shoulder. The man shrugged, a wicked grin playing across his mouth.

"Then you haven't been paying attention."

Her tail flicked like an angry snake. Armand was telling her she wasn't observant? That she didn't know when her foster brother wasn't happy? It was harder to believe he _was_ happy after the witch of years ago.

"What do I have to say?" She growled, arms crossed, and eyes boring into his.

"That's a girl," Armand ruffled her hair.

She swatted at him, causing the knight to jump back.

"Don't push your luck," clicking her claws together in a threatening manner.

* * *

After sharing with Merle the majority of the plan, he left her growling and grumbling to do her part as he set out to do his. With the Prince at the palace and with him being as alert as children had a tendency to be, it'd be public knowledge soon the King and Queen were at odds.

Even if Chid wasn't present, Armand would still be on the receiving end of one mad mama. Sighing, he shook his head. If only he had been able to be a butler or personal manservant instead of a knight—darn his need to succeed!

Finding his King was just a matter of eliminating his normal 'hang outs', one of his favorite spots was the roof where the king usually went to think, fight, or hide. Then there were the practice rooms and the royal bedroom. He checked the latter two in vain hopes he wouldn't have to act like a money and swing on the shingles of the multistory home.

Not everyone was born with a natural love for high places and cat-like ability to _stay_ on those high places without slipping. Climbing the stairs leading to the roof's balcony, Armand heaved a heavy sigh.

"I could have been a priest but nooooo," Armand muttered under his breath. He had to play royal matchmaker with two of the gods' most stubborn people.

"Your majesty?" _Please_, Armand begged internally, _don't let him be up here_.

"I don't want to be disturbed."

_Damn, damn, and double damn!_ The king was lying on the roof all right, but not on the balcony, heavens forbid he should make this easy. Van was about thirty feet away from stable ground; Armand felt a pathetic whimper wanting to bubble up in his throat.

"I would like to speak with you, your highness."

Van turned his face toward the knight and then back to the stars.

The brunette's face twitched, he was pretty sure there was going to be a permanent twitch above his eye within the week.

_Bratty, irritating royal pain in the arse,_ the knight would never say any of that out loud to the man who could strip him of title and rank and then shove him in the kitchens under his mother's thumb. Then again it might be easier to slip the royal couple an aphrodisiac from the kitchens; at least they'd be happy briefly.

"Spoiled brat," Armand cursed under his breath and hefted himself up and over the railing. With careful steps, he managed to walk across the slopped roof to where Van was casually reclining.

"Didn't you hear me?" Van questioned, irritated he had been disobeyed.

"Sorry, either my hearing is finally going because of all the screaming from her majesty or she finally was able to hit me with something and bust an ear drum," the man smirked, "makes it more tolerable to live with I suppose."

Van turned his face completely away from the other man. "That's your queen you're talking about."

When his foot started to slide a bit too much for his tastes, the man's behind hit the shingles as his gloved fingers attempted to dig into roof to prevent an untimely death.

"I'm aware of that, your majesty."

A grunt was his only reply.

"Is there anything you wish to get off your chest?" Armand offered, trying to get the conversation going.

"It might make you feel better."

_And get me off the roof quicker_, Armand added mentally, _I don't think I'd look good as a pancake. Short and fat._

Van sat up, drew one of his knees to him close enough so he could rest his arms on it. "I think I've learned my lesson about taking your advice."

"You're going to have to translate that, I'm afraid," Armand frowned. "I flunked decoding royal sarcasm."

That earned him a rather simmering look from the royal.

"I _told_ her," Van replied, acid dripping from his words. "And she—she called me a liar."

Armand couldn't stop his eyelids from fluttering rapidly. He hadn't expected that.

"Why that little blonde vixen! What did you tell her exactly."

"I told her about my past engagement," Van stated plainly. There was no use in hiding it from one of the few people who were in on the entire thing. Armand knew ever nasty turn and pothole in the relationship if one could call it that.

"She didn't believe you?" Armand was a bit mystified at this. Why would the queen call him a liar if he was telling the truth? "She didn't believe about your engagement?"

"I don't think it was _that_," Van dipped his head down. Berating himself for letting Armand stay.

The king was never openly emotionally, except when he got mad, so it was hard to tell what he was feeling. He was hiding something and there wasn't a prayer loud enough or long enough to get it out of him.

"Mother is going to skin me alive and use me for garnish," Armand muttered into his palm as he stared down at the gardens below them, hoping Merle was having a bit more luck with her assignment.

* * *

"So, he told you?" Merle almost hissed as she dropped from a nearby tree and landed gently on her feet. Hitomi almost fell backwards from shock and was thankful she had excellent bladder control.

After the surprise wore off, Hitomi went instantly on guard; both girls were prepared to fight.

"What do you want?"

The brown furred feline turned her nose up higher, her arms firmly crossed against her chest.

"Lord Van is stubborn," Merle offered up, her frown still overriding her features. "And so are you. It's a battle of pig-headedness." What the cat-girl lacked in discretion, she made up in truth.

Hitomi couldn't believe her pierced ears. Merle was actually saying her precious Lord Van had a _flaw_?

"What are you talking about?"

That strangled out a growl from the other female.

"Don't be dumb. I know he told you. I don't know what else happened, but you two have been so depressed and there is so much tension you could get full on it," the neko leaned forward when she said this, her eyes narrowed as if tempting the Queen to disagree. "Make up already. _You _probably were the one who screwed things up to begin with."

"I didn't do anything wrong!" Hitomi fumed, "But I'm being punished like I did! That's not fair!"

Merle smirked; she knew getting under her skin was going to be easy. Smoother than a needle and a whole lot more sting, that was the neko's way of dealing with this blonde.

"Oh, really?"

Hitomi clenched her fist, this girl was unbelievable! She was seventeen and acted twelve most of the time and that irritated the girl beyond all belief.

"Yes," the Queen bit out, "really."

"So you think he's punishing you for something that that tramp did."

"Yes," there had better either be an end or a point to this harassment or Hitomi was going to shave all of Merle's fur off.

"Then show him that you aren't her, duh," Merle pointed out with disgust in her tone. "You human girls make everything so complicated."

Hitomi gave her a flat stare at the last comment, but had to admit that the first half of what she said _did_ make sense in a fashion.

"It's not that easy."

That got a snort from the neko, as her tail started to swish faster behind her.

"As if that's ever stopped you." There was a heartbeat or two, and then Merle laid her flat with just a simple question. "Do you love him?"

Red would be pale compared to the color Hitomi's cheeks flamed, "_What_?"

Merle came closer, her face a few inches from Hitomi's, "Do. You. Love. Lord. Van?"

"Uh," Hitomi started, knowing it wasn't the most intelligent word, but she couldn't seem to gather her bearings.

"Hmmm?" Merle questioned again, deepening her scowl.

"That is-"

"Hitomi!" Chid's voice sung out sweetly and to Hitomi nothing ever sounded so sweet.

Both females turned their attention to the bandaged youth standing in the path.

"Hitomi, can you play with me?"

"Of course," the Queen answered, and darted off toward the boy.

"Hey!" Merle cried, "Get back here and answer me!"

* * *

Allen stared at the two blondes as the dodged down different paths with the hyper-active and upset cat girl on their heels. His grave expression marring his otherwise handsome features left no doubt to the color of his thoughts.

Maybe he had been in the military too long not to be suspicious of any happy coincidences, or perhaps it was just a worrisome streak he had instilled in him. Whatever the reason, Allen couldn't help but feel a certain—uneasiness.

There were questions that were going to need answering and he was sure some answers would require further explaining. Only if the explanations were accepted and believable would the countries remain at peace. If the explanations weren't acceptable—gods help them all.


	23. Knights

**Chapter 23**

* * *

"So early?" Hitomi asked sadly.

"Yes," Princess Millerna smiled encouragingly. "My father requested we leave for Palas immediately. He wished to discuss something with us that involved my nephew."

"I don't want to go!" Chid stated, grabbing Hitomi's hand firmly. "I don't want to go back!"

Hitomi tried to calm the distressed child, but not before she saw an unfamiliar emotion flicker across the knight's and princess' faces. They had been giving her strange looks from the first day, but now it seemed every time Chid called out for her, those looks became more meaningful. The meaning wasn't a happy one; she was smart enough to know that.

"I hope we haven't offended you in anyway," Van spoke in his diplomatic voice, having enough training to recognize odd behavior in the higher forms of etiquette ruthlessly practiced by monarchs and their families.

"Not at all," Millerna turned her smile to Van. "You have been a very giving host and we've been very appreciative of all that you've done."

The Fanelian nodded, but said nothing else. Hitomi shifted her gaze between her husband and their guests. Something was up, but no one was telling her anything.

* * *

"There you are my delightful little delinquent!" Armand popped into the bedroom without so much as a knock and nearly danced over to where Hitomi sat, sulking. "Don't try to fool me; I know you are just all a twitter to see what your darling knight in good fashion is going to do for you this time!"

"Do _to _me would be more accurate," Hitomi shifted her green eyes to the jolly man before sighing and sinking further into her chair.

Chid, Millerna, and Allen had boarded and left on a ship hours ago. As soon as the young boy was gone, she felt that dreadful feeling of loneliness latch onto her senses again. She was more than happy to sit in her room all day and mope, but apparently the knight missed the declaration of depression or chose to ignore it as he did so many things.

"What do you want?" She asked in order to figure out how to make him leave the quickest.

He gave her one of _those_ looks and produced a silvery green fabric—thing from behind his back.

"I need you to try this on."

What he was talking about was a sliver of clothing that looked like something only a skinny stick which had been shaved could fit.

"I can't fit that!" Hitomi protested, refusing to be stuffed into something too small and left feeling like a sausage.

"I know that, I'm not so naïve," the knight scoffed. "Nor am I blind, I just need you to put it on so I can tell the tailor where to let it out."

Her mouth twitched on either side, highly annoyed. She wasn't as skinny as a lot of girls, but she wasn't overweight by any standards.

"Who says he'll _have_ to?" Snatching the dress away from him, she marched behind her dressing screen.

Armand smirked, his back to her. Sometimes she was too easy to manipulate.

"What is this for anyway?"

The knight smiled, "For the Fanelian anniversary ball."

From the following 'ow' the man had a feeling she was truly a clutz. He sighed; this was why he still shied away from strapping anything with a heel on her feet.

In truth, Hitomi's mind slipped to the last time she heard mention of that particular ball.

_"I met her at the Fanelian annual ball, through a common acquaintance…" _

"When is that?" The Queen asked, trying to sound interested.

"About a month," Armand picked up a peach from the side table and tossed it between his hands in a bored manner.

"Then why on Gaea am I trying this on now?"

"Massive alterations take a long time," Armand couldn't help but chuckle at her half growl.

She stepped from behind her screen and fiddled with one of the smaller ties on her cuff, "I don't think it has to be altered—"

Looking up at her knight, she found him awe struck with widened eyes and slacked jaw.

The peach he had been tossing hit the floor with a solid thud and rolled toward Hitomi.

Hitomi felt self conscious as his eyes roamed her body. For the first time in a long time he actually acted like a male instead of an unsexed pest. Her cheeks tinted with pink embarrassment.

The man shook himself out of his stupor, trying to regain his mind as he cleared his throat and started to study the queen's dress for faults. He carefully noted a few odds and ends the tailor needed to take care of, but besides that it fit her beautifully.

Van wouldn't know what hit him.

"Okay, now get out of it before you trip into the fireplace, set the drapes on fire, and get me into trouble." He crossed his arms and turned around, nose in the air.

The woman rolled her eyes, "you have to help me get out of this thing."

Armand felt his own pulse quicken. Nasty little boy thoughts ran rampant through his head. A head, he reminded himself, he would lose quickly if he did anything wrong. Swallowing a lump in his throat, Hitomi turned around and waited as the nimble fingers of the knight made quick work of the lacing in the back.

How she got into that thing without his help, he didn't want to know.

* * *

"He left us in the garden!" Leiko shrieked causing Hitomi leaned back from her enraged sister.

The older woman then down viciously on her toast to show her annoyance. After Armand had coughed up the information that he had left her mother and sister in the gardens the night Chid arrived, Hitomi couldn't help but invite at least her sister to dine with her.

Leiko had been glad to take the invitation, but their mother was occupied with something more important. Probably arranging Leiko's next engagement if Hitomi guessed correctly.

"The gardens?"

"I had bugs in my hair that took two days to pluck out!"

"Why did you even bother to come?" Hitomi questioned.

"Because I heard that a prince, a single and very cute prince, was coming to visit so I naturally wanted to see him!" Leiko popped a few grapes in her mouth and shook her head, "but I didn't even get to get a glance at him! That stupid knight!"

As the Queen wiped her mouth, she smiled behind the napkin. No wonder Armand seemed so happy for no reason when he came into the library.

"I'm sure he meant well," Hitomi commented and replaced her napkin on her lap.

The older girl 'hmmphed' and went back to her chicken. Over the crunching and other various meal noises, she didn't hear the side door open from the hall, but Hitomi did. Looking over to see who it was she nearly spit out her drink when she saw Van standing there with a stricken look on his face as he spotted their guest.

They met a few times, but as he slowly started to back up, she figured a few times were enough to last a life time. Quietly as he could, Van shut the door.

Hitomi started to giggle at the very idea of a king being terrified to break bread with his own in-law!

With a sharp snap of her fingers, Leiko broke Hitomi out of her happy mood.

"Maybe he is in love with me and couldn't bear to see me with another man!" Leiko's evil glint returned to her eye, her younger sister only looked confused.

"Who?"

"Sir-whateverhisnamewas," Leiko cooed. "I bet that was it! I bet that's why he kept me away from the prince."

Hitomi's smile flinched, "Prince Chid is only ten."

Leiko's eyebrows perked up, "What's your point?" Then, as if nothing was said, the older girl went back into her delusional fantasies, "I wonder if our children will look like him or me…?"

Hitomi sighed deeply at her sister nonsensical self praise. Just when she was considering slipping under the table, Leiko snapped her fingers again.

"Oh yea, I forgot until now."

"What?"

"Mother wants to know when you're going to make her a grandmother."

The queen choked on her water.

* * *

Van sat on the roof tops again, hiding or thinking, who could really tell the difference anymore.

He'd been up there every night for three days since Chid's departure. It bothered him deeply that the Asturians picked up and left. It wasn't right. They had planned on staying close to two months and barely three weeks into their visit they had to leave?

It was troublesome.

Asturia was no easy distance to Fanelia, flying ship or not, so a short visit was strange. Then they had to interrogate the queen, Allen had politely started to ask Hitomi questions she obviously felt uneasy answering.

The knight insisted on knowing how she knew Chid, how long these 'dreams' had happened, and all sorts of things. It wasn't a pleasant outlook. Hitomi told the truth as to where she had been and that she knew nothing of the perpetrators.

Still the Asturians left and he was left to wonder what was going to happen next. Maybe he was worried over nothing or maybe he was worrying over all the right things. Van wasn't sure which one and it was driving him insane.

"Van?"

Hitomi poked her head up from the side of the roof. After Armand's rude interruptions, the king decided to seek the higher roof. It required for a person to stand on the balcony lip and then climb up the side to the top.

"Be careful," Van admonished. If he could see her head, she was already standing on the balcony lip. Her fingers were white from the stress of holding on for dear life. Sighing, he reached down and grabbed both her wrists, and aided her up to the rooftop.

"You shouldn't do that if you aren't use to it."

She stood on wobbly legs, her arms spread as she tried to get her balance before taking each step. Having done his rooftop explorations for so long, Van returned to previous spot without so much as a slip or stumble.

Determined to make it, Van gave a small smile as the blonde slowly made her way toward him.

When she was a few feet from him, he offered his hand to help her sit. Hitomi smiled with relief as she took the proffered hand and happily took a spot next to him. Wrapping her arms around her pulled up legs, she kept her eyes forward and a smile that never faltered.

What was she doing up here? As the minutes ticked by and she didn't look at him or even speak, Van started to feel nervous. She would, he knew, eventually bring up their last explosive conversation.

"Is something wrong?" He finally pushed out of his mouth, not able to wait for her to make the first move.

Hitomi seemed to remember he was there as she turned her attention to him and made sure to make eye contact.

"That's my question." He tipped his head slightly as if in puzzled by her. "Have you been avoiding me?"

"No," Van replied too quickly for Hitomi's personal tastes. "I've just had some things on my mind."

"Like what?"

He gave her a steady stare, trying to gauge whether she was making conversation or was generally curious.

"Why they left so quickly."

Hitomi went back to scanning the horizon. "They told you why."

"I think there's more to it than that," Van admitted, laid back down, arms crossed behind his head. "It's not normal for someone to travel so far and then turn around and leave."

"Oh," Hitomi replied gently, "is this because he recognized me?"

"Probably."

_So much for sugar coating it_, Hitomi thought with a sigh.

"But it's nothing you need to worry about."

"That's not true, Van," she corrected gently, wanting to stand up to plant her hands on her hip to take her natural defensive stance but remembered she was on unsteady ground and even lucky to be sitting without tumbling down off the roof. "How can I ever be a good Queen when no one ever tells me _how_ to be one? I dress up and play the part, but I'm not being any real help to Fanelia _or_ to you."

Sitting up, Van searched his mind for something to say, but came up blank. He didn't know how to be a Queen, obviously, and he couldn't remember his mother in that role. To his knowledge the queen had always played the part of silent support.

"Why is this so important to you?" Van questioned hesitantly.

"Although I haven't been here long and I don't know a lot of the people, they seem to be genuinely good people," Hitomi smiled, and turned that smile toward him. "I always was taught the citizens reflect their leader, I don't think it is any different here. I want to be able to know what the best is for Fanelia," she paused, a pink hue coming to her cheeks. "Maybe after I've earned their trust, I can earn yours and maybe, if ever, they learn to love me—so can you."

Garnet eyes betrayed his surprise. Van's mind went into a cold shock.

"I know she hurt you, Van," Hitomi started very gently, "but I'm not her."

Cautiously, she reached out a hand and touched the side of his face with her fingertips. "Please don't punish me for her mistakes—and don't hurt yourself anymore…"

In his current state of disbelief, he didn't pull away as Hitomi leaned forward, closed the distance successfully between them as their lips met. Her eyes were closed, his were still wide open. The softness of her lips, the pressure behind them meant his stupor wouldn't be shaken any time soon. A few short and sweet heartbeats flittered by before she pulled back.

"I love you."

* * *

Millerna had a sickening feeling in her stomach when the morning came and with it, a visitor from one of Asturia's allies. She had been called home to tend to matters of state, but left her trusted knight Allen with Chid for protection.

Ever since they left Fanelia the young Prince had sunk back into his depression, inconsolable about leaving his "angel." The ally said he held delicate information that required an immediate audience with the king and those who had any personal interest in the well being of the Prince.

Allen had politely cautioned Millerna to not believe everything she might hear. He wouldn't answer her directly, but Allen insisted the man was not one who was to be trusted easily.

The visitor bowed on one knee and had a honeyed voice but acid words. The sickening feeling came from her father's half belief in them.

"Is that so?" The king asked, his eye brow rising slightly as the stranger continued to explain the many reasons as to why Fanelia should be investigated.

"I don't think this is a mere coincidence, your majesty," the ambassador said smoothly. "What is the likelihood of the young Prince suddenly being recovered unless those who took them were having troubles in their kingdom?"

"Go on," the king stapled his fingertips in front of his face.

"We have come to advise you it might be likely that those who seem as if they are helping are, in fact, the ones who took the young Prince to begin with."

"But Fanelia has never been hostile toward Asutria or Freid," the King sat straighter in his thrown. "Why would they choose now to make such motions?"

"Because the young king is rash and often acts out without consulting his council," the speaker's voice was as calm and deep as a river's water. "His brother's death could have been the cause for his sudden actions."

The man raised his head, the stale and hard line of his mouth not allowing any emotions to filter through.

"He was lately crowned king, giving him full rule without the council standing in the way of any of his decisions. It could be he has decided now will be the best time to enact his revenge."

"It would be a rather foolhardy thing to do," King Aston reasoned, "and I have no reason to believe he would act out in such a way. His brother was killed, yes, but Freid has nothing to do with that."

"But Asturia did," the man's eyes narrowed to slits. "It was an Asturian knight who took the King's brother from him."


	24. Paint

**Chapter 24**

* * *

"That was a lie!" The king bellowed, as he leaned forward quickly in his throne. "It was nothing more than an unfounded rumor created by a madman!"

The guest flinched.

"Perhaps the young king did not feel it was a rumor," he kept his eyes on Aston, his face masked without an expression. "And even if the rumor has been proven false, the question always remains. He might have a secret objective."

"That's not true!" Millerna defended vehemently, all eyes on her as gasps filled the room. "I have just come from Fanelia and their king showed no sign of hostility or secretive motives. He was always very forthright as was their queen!"

"Princess," her father stated coldly. She had over stepped her bounds, that's what that tone meant.

She pinched her lips together, wanting to turn her face away from their guest, but not having enough bad breeding to do it. How she'd love to scream, rant, rave, carry on, and all those wonderfully glorious things women were prone to do when they had their fill of the stupid side of humanity, otherwise known as the males.

The visitor wasn't swayed by her outburst and continued to stare at the king, "The trade between Palas and the capital of Fanelia drastically declined, correct?"

The ruler of Asturia steepled his fingertips together in front of him, "It declined after Chid was kidnapped, but every country was affected in one way or another by the kidnapping. Fanelia would have been no different, even _your_ country was on a downward slope in trade."

That made the guest cringe, but only to someone who was paying attention to his hand as it rested on the opposite shoulder. This was proving more difficult than he originally intended, he told his partner it wouldn't work. He had stated repeatedly that _his_ way was best, but he was thoroughly ignored by his partner and liege.

He couldn't walk away from this or Asturia might want to investigate _him_ and that was something that couldn't be permitted.

* * *

Van barely dodged the sword's blade brought dangerously close to his chest. It was only at the last moment he was able to back step and missed Jill's blade. He wasn't paying attention to the present; his mind was captured by what happened only a few short nights ago.

Those words, why did she say them?

Side step, block.

Did she mean them?

Block, dodge, and swing.

What if she wasn't like the other girl?

Shift on one foot and swing.

What if she was?

"Stop," Armand's voice broke through and Van sheathed his sword without a second thought. Jill was bent over; panting for all that he was worth. The king seemed oblivious to everything, as if he was walking through the dark.

"Wh-what's with _him_?" Jill heaved out, "someone slip something extra into his tea?"

"Either he's distracted or you're getting better," Armand replied, watching his liege leave the courtyard.

"Maybe I'm getting better?" The younger knight parroted, as if it were something he had been hoping all along.

"No. He's distracted," Armand squashed the younger man's enthusiasm at record speed. This comment caused him to have to hear about what a jerk and how mean he was from the younger knight for a good half hour.

Van couldn't help but be distracted. It wasn't a good thing; he couldn't get his mind to focus on practice. He could've been hurt or severely hurt Jill. It was lucky for him he was still able to focus on common matters of state.

Trying to shake this was tough. Every time he saw her he had to stop himself from blushing. He was acting like a shy school boy, but he never believed _she_ would have said _that_. Maybe he hoped she never would, if she hated him it would have been easier to live with.

Maybe.

Perhaps.

Okay, it wouldn't have been, but it wouldn't have torn him apart like this!

She said she was in love with him. What did that mean to her? Why should he care? He stated his firm resolution never to love again, why did she have to do this to him now?

He heard it before, though. He had heard it before and ate it up, his heart clenched painfully. Van wanted to believe her, he wanted to so badly, but there was still a larger part of him that remembered all too well what it felt like when such statements were retracted.

Closing his eyes, the man made his way through the halls to where the Queen was currently devouring all the books he could throw at her. She wished to know what it took to run the kingdom well, to help the people— to help him— and to do that, Hitomi had to understand the basic structures.

The first set of books he thrust at her was the Fanelian laws. He thought that would make her run away screaming, instead he found her for the past few nights passed out over the book in the library. He couldn't leave her there to wake up with pain in the neck and a sore back, so like a gentleman, he would carry her back to their bed. He wasn't brave enough to put her in her nightgown, though.

Opening the door, Van found her wide awake for once, but still buried within the thick volume of ancient laws. Her brow was furrowed and as she chewed on a strand of her hair. It was kind of cute in its own way.

Her green eyes flickered up momentarily, "Hi." She said simply and went straight back to the text. "This is really boring."

That damned awkward feeling set in his gut again, but he refused to acknowledge it.

"Is it all making sense?" He questioned, stopping in front of her. Van knew just how boring it could be, he had to learn it from a young age after all. Of course he had Merle to play with and distract him from his studies. His tutors usually ended up pulling at their hair and cursing in high pitched voices before storming out of the room.

His brother was the only one who was able to sit him down and make him learn.

Lowering her book at the same time she raised her head, she shifted until her feet were on the ground, and no longer curled beside her.

"Actually, there is something I wanted to ask you," Hitomi patted the spot beside her and he obediently sat.

Putting the book on both their laps, one side on each of their legs, she pointed to one law, grabbed newer book, and flipped through several pages before pointing out a corresponding law.

"Why was this changed?"

Van read both and found it strange she should ask about Fanelian marriage laws.

"My father changed it from this one," he pointed to the older law, "to this one when he met my mother. Until then the chosen spouse had to be of royal birth. Since Fanelia is small compared to our neighbors, it was a difficult task, but for centuries they somehow managed."

Hitomi's eyes glanced at him as the man looked down at the newer book. It was in his father's handwriting since the council was strongly opposed to the match.

"He must have loved her very much to do that, to change history for one person." Images of a heroic looking king, clutching a blushing woman as he proclaimed his law filtered across her mind.

"I guess," was Van's less than romantic reply. "He did everything he could to be with her and in the end, they were." He gave a half smile, "as evidenced by my brother and me."

"True," she gave a soft smile, leaned back on the couch while her eyes never left the ebony haired man's profile. "Can you do that? Just change a law?"

"Not without good reason and backing from some of the council. It's a check against a ruler who might want to change things on a whim," Van explained. "I haven't ever tried to, but then I don't really have any reasons to change them."

"What did your mom look like?" An innocent enough of a question, but it sent the room into silence. Hitomi felt the nerves get the best of her opened her mouth to ask another question when Van climbed slowly to his feet, turned, and offered his hand to her.

By the hand he led her out of the library, down the hall, and up a flight of stairs. He didn't utter a word of explanation as the passed unfamiliar doors and walked deeper into the palace. Hitomi wondered just how big this place really was and why, if it was this big, did she hide in that closet while playing with Chid?

At last he pushed open one of the doors and slowly walked inside. As was with the rest of the rooms, it was kept free of cobwebs and other tattle-tell signs of disuse, but the curtains were drawn together tightly, giving evidence it wasn't frequented.

His pace slowed as he approached the center of the room where the fire place was situated in the wall. With a quick look in her direction, then to the place above the fireplace, Hitomi followed his lead.

There was a large painting that was hard to see without direct light, but after her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she could clearly make out the four figures in the painting. There was a rather gruff looking man who was standing behind the other three. Situated in the middle of the painting was a beautiful woman with long hair and soft eyes. Though they had a kind glint, they also seemed somewhat sad. The other two portraits were of a gangly boy with wild blue hair and a much younger infant with the same wild type hair but it was black as coal.

"Is that you?" Hitomi questioned, stepping closer to the portrait. "You were so cute!"

Pausing to gaze up at this family, she noticed the same look in Van's eyes now. The same sadness, something about it said no one would ever understand why their heart was broken.

"You look so much like your mother."

Van stepped beside her, arms crossed against his chest, and face turned up with his eyes locked on the smooth skin of his mother.

"I always thought I resembled my father."

The longing was flowing off him like waves in an ocean. He missed his family dearly, that much was obvious. Hitomi missed her sister, but at least she had a hope she was alive as the rest of her odd family. Van would never be able to see those he loved ever again. Her heart ached to think of this little boy in the picture as desperately clutching for anyone to take his hand and comfort him from—well, himself.

Drawing him out of that cave was going to be a painfully long process, but as he turned his face to her, she felt her heart flutter in her chest.

Painful and long, but she reached to him and grabbed his hand it would be well worth the wait.

* * *

"It's been a week and they still haven't done anything. Do you think they bought it?"

"Not a word, I told you this wouldn't work." The guest made sure not to leave too quickly from the kingdom of Asturia, but still he had to get out. The longer he stayed, the more their eyebrows twitched with uncertainty. He couldn't waste time there anyway, there were other things to set into motion.

"Then why even go through with it? We coulda been doing something more productive," his fellow traveler hissed.

"Because I wanted to show you your plan wasn't going to work." The man smiled, his smile having an icy edge to it. "Now I will show you how to start a real war."


	25. Still Waters

**Chapter 25**

* * *

When she felt the sense of weightlessness, Hitomi briefly thought she was flying or dreaming. Then a familiar scent filled her senses, a warm and comforting scent that she slowly stirred from her fantasy of flying and furrowed her brow in confusion. It was the distinct scent of leather and soap, along with the hint of pine needles and something wild. It was a comforting aroma she had come to know as Van's distinct musk.

Her sleepy mind focused well enough to realize he was carrying her to their room, yet again, from where she had fallen asleep in the library. She hadn't woken up many times during the past trips, but this time she did. Fighting down a smile, the woman allowed his scent and warmth wash over her like a freshly laundered blanket.

Van's arms didn't look strong enough to be able to manage her weight, but he did with little effort. Strong arms, handsome face, and gentle yet easily wounded heart. Hitomi's heart began to beat faster at her thoughts as she heard the doors to their room creak open.

There was sudden blast of cold air, causing both of them to flinch. It was like walking into snow! Van was not lead away from his original path as he laid her down gently on the bed. Not being able to take the sudden chill plus the loss of body heat, Hitomi cracked her eyes open. She watched as he closed the balcony doors, leaving the curtains open for the moons' light to filter through the otherwise dark room.

Everything felt like ice, even the bed, gradually she drew herself up into a sitting position, hands clutching her arms as she tried to push away the shivers threatening to overtake her body. By this time, Van had turned around, his eyebrows coming together as he studied his bride.

"It's freezing," Hitomi managed to push out of her mouth without her teeth chattering. "Didn't anyone light the fire?" She was too spoiled to having a nice warm fire to keep her warm in the cooling months she feared now she'd taken it for granted.

"They probably did, but the winds probably blew it out," Van explained, walked over to the fire place, and knelt down. "I'll start one in a few minutes." He picked up the flints resting by the mouth and began the process.

How wasn't he _freezing_? She'd rather sleep uncomfortably in the library where it was warm than freeze to death in a bed!

"Why don't you change why I do this?" Van suggested, not turning around.

"Y-yes." As she got dressed behind her screen, she had to slip off her shoes and put her naked feet on the bitingly cold stone floor. A shiver snaked its way up her body causing her to nearly double over from cold. A soft orange glow illuminated the thin material of the screen and she sighed happily to know that he had succeeded. After dressing she nearly ran to the bed to climb under the covers.

Sadly, the cold had seeped into the woven fabrics as well. It was like lying between two heavy blankets of snow. She curled tightly into a fetal position, wrapping her arms around her upper body tightly as the chills made her body tremble.

Van emerged from the bathing room and she couldn't believe her eyes. He was dressed in his normal night attire of loose fitting night pants. No shirt, just the pants. A viper of jealously bit her harshly as he climbed under the covers and adjusted himself to a comfortable position.

"You're not cold?" Hitomi asked through clenched teeth.

"A bit."

He wasn't human!

"I'm frozen solid and you are just a bit cold?"

Van turned his face toward her, his arms across his stomach. There was a blush creeping up his face from his bare neck to the hair line. He opened his mouth to say something, but he snapped it shut just as quickly.

Turning his face from her again, he found his voice, "You can lay closer to me if you'd like."

Hitomi's face instantly turned pink. At least his offer explained his blush! She wanted to immediately answer a firm 'no' because of her own embarrassment, but then, as another cold shock went through her, she reconsidered.

They'd been sharing a bed for many months; it wasn't so unusual to share one another's warmth, was it? He wouldn't try anything, would he? Yes, she admitted to being in love with him, but it didn't make her a fearless bed predator!

He still wouldn't look at her, but that was fine by her, she didn't think her nerve would stay if he did peek.

"A-are you sure?"

She heard him swallow, hard.

"Yes."

Slowly she uncurled herself and began to move from her designated 'side' of the bed and over to his. Hitomi felt extremely weird, as she slithered across the bed like a snake. When she was less than ten inches away, she stopped. Her nerve having thinned the closer she got.

She wasn't close enough to feel his heat, but her cheeks were like furnaces. He was only partially dressed, so she didn't know how close was allowed. He might flip out and spring from the bed like a startled rabbit if she drew any closer.

Van had been painfully aware of each and every movement, couldn't get his muscles to relax. He was prepared to feel her body next to his, but only for the sake of warmth. As a few flickers of the fire popped and hissed, he finally confirmed that indeed Hitomi wasn't coming any closer.

Being brave, he hesitantly faced her direction to inspect whether or not she was stalling or sleeping. The blush came back full force when he noticed her staring at him, with conflict in her eyes with as many inner battles his.

This was stupid. She was cold, he was cold. They'd either freeze together in the bed or be together and save themselves the pain of the cold.

"A-are you sure you don't mind?" She asked hesitantly. "I don't want to remind you of—," she bit her lower lip, wanting to curse herself. Now for sure she _would_ remind him of her! Great! Just great! Mark one up on the 'dumb things to say' for Hitomi!

Van's blush went away quickly. Sighing, he unfolded his right arm, and with some nudging, she lifted her head so he could stretch it out to its full length.

"Put you head on my shoulder," he instructed in a quiet voice. Gingerly, she followed his directions, still feeling a bit more than awkward and odd about everything.

With her head on his shoulder, she turned so she was lying on her side, absorbing the delicious warmth he was radiating. Shyly she placed one of her hands on his chest, close to her mouth. He muscles were wound tight for a few moments, but as the time ticked slowly by, she felt him start to relax.

Closing her eyes, the comforting scent that woke her up in the first place filled her nose. It was the most peaceful thing in the world to be next to him, knowing his kindness and strength was around her.

Van finally felt some of his tension ease once Hitomi's breathing became deep and steady. Tucking his left hand behind his head, he cautiously wrapped his right arm around the petite female so his hand was resting where her slim waist flared to her hip.

As fatigue seeped into his mind, the king turned his head enough to lightly take in her scent. It was amazing, his body hummed, how such a simple thing could soothe his frazzled nerves so much.

* * *

"I don't like this," Millerna stated firmly to her husband, Dryden, as he causally reclined on one of their sofas. When he arrived a week ago, she had been a tight bundle of nerves and soon as she was behind closed doors with him, she let it all out. She fumed about the _nerve_ of the ambassador's claims and then how her father dismissed her in front of that low life!

"Calm down, nothing can be _that_ bad."

"_I'm_ the one who had to leave! Now _I _have to be the one to tell King Van, behind a smile and laugh, that we thought Fanelia was conspiring against Asturia and sorry?" Millerna crossed her arms over her chest and swiveled her face smartly to the right, away from him. "Van has always been kind and Father is willing to betray all the past kindness because of another country's _hunch_?"

"Men have known to go to war over less," Dryden shrugged, his eternal coolness about the whole situation was usually admired, but right now she wanted him to at least to pretend to be upset. "What does Fanelia have to offer?"

"Nothing that any other country doesn't," Millerna tipped her head down, thinking. Fanelia was one of the smaller countries, but by no means defenseless. "Their major contribution in the past has been their superior military skill," she paused for a moment, "and perhaps their unusually high number of dragons living in their forests."

"Conceivably someone might be after the dragon hearts. Guymelfs run off of those things don't they?" Dryden watched as his wife halted briefly in her restlessness, but after a few ticks of the clock continued.

"Yes, but no one would need them. We are in a time of peace." Millerna bit her lower lip, thinking. "Granted the two strengths of the Fanelia kingdom, I can see how they'd be suspected, but the king isn't war hungry."

"As his brother was?"

"Another rumor that was never proven," Millerna pointed out solemnly. Sighing, the princess sat down on her bed, eyebrows knitted together. "And he's dead."

Shaking her head, she forced a smile to which the brunette raised an eyebrow and his wine glass.

"I have to be in better spirits, after all, unhappy people aren't really a joy to be around."

Picking herself up, she turned her attention to her husband, "Are you going to be attending this time?"

"I've scheduled my trade route to go through Fanelia on the week of the ball. So, this time, Allen can stay home," He couldn't hide the smirk as he announced that.

* * *

"You're hiding something," Rai tapped her spoon slowly on the edge of her mixing bowl as her only son popped yet another pastry in his mouth.

"Nagnnn ahm nagh!"

"Don't speak with your mouth open!" Armand quickly gulped down his food as Rai leveled his attitude with a glance. "Now, what are you keeping from me?"

"Nothing, I swear," Armand rolled his eyes and picked up another hot treat from the pan. "When have I ever denied you access into the land of my mind?"

"I know you, and I've only seen you go on eating binges when something is wrong."

Armand pouted. He knew better than to think his mother and he could be co-workers in the same palace. However, he really didn't want to say what was laying heavy on his mind. It wouldn't make anyone feel better, and it wouldn't make it go away either.

"I don't want to talk about it."

His mother screwed her lips into a motherly grimace, "You are starting to sound like his highness."

There was a noise made by the knight as he sharply turned away, to stare at the door in a self-hating glare. Rai looked at her son's profile; she'd seen that look before. Narrowing her eyes she threw her dish towel at her air-headed offspring.

It hit with a solid sound on his wavy haired head. He pulled it off; he gave a seething look in the direction of the pitcher.

"What was that for!"

"Don't."

"Don't _what_?"

"I don't know," Rai admitted honestly.

"Then how can you tell me _don't_?" Armand declared in disbelief.

"Because I know that look. That means you are going to do, say, or something you don't want anyone else to know. But you have _such_ an active mouth you won't be able to stop yourself from messing something up! The last thing we need is a royal mess."

Armand scoffed and, though silent on the outside, couldn't help to note her unique choice of words. If she only knew what was really starting to brew in his mind like a bad pot of tea.

* * *

"Suck. It. In," Armand bit out, grabbed the ties of Hitomi's corset and pulled roughly on them. The ball was in three days and it was her duty to smile and be nice-nice while the guests arrived from out of the country.

"I can't!" She shot back, breathlessly, "There's nowhere for it to go!"

"Then learn to eat less," Armand snapped, and grunted as he pulled her strings tighter still. "This is an important event! You have to look your best!"

"You take much more air out of me and I'll be blue!" Hitomi wrapped her arms around a bed post and wanted to throw something back at him, but ended up only being able to gasp as the pain coursed through her.

"Blue brings out your eyes now _exhale_!" Armand commanded.

"You two act like an old married couple," Rai pointed out, setting a fresh pot of tea down.

Van had been busy with random bits of trade information, treaties and such to accurately prepare the ball. It was with a lopsided smile that he said this would be Hitomi's perfect time to learn yet another side of being a Queen.

The faithful, and sometimes friendly, knight decided it would be the best time to try out his new torture of fitting her for dresses Hitomi could have promised to the gods were made three sizes too small _on purpose_.

She would have sighed, if it hadn't been so uncomfortable to do so, as he tied her off and with a grunt, helped her lace up of the intricate ties to her dress.

"How will I know who is who?" Hitomi asked, as she managed to stumble to a chair, one hand pressed over her heart as the other one was firmly on her stomach. How was she supposed to eat a state dinner when her stomach was now a part of her spine?

"That's not your job the first time," Armand explained, refusing to look her in the eye as he shifted through the jewelry case. "There will be a person to announce who everyone is; it's your job to remember them after that."

"And who is it I bow to again?" Hitomi inquired, holding her head up as the knight held up several different sets of earrings before finally settling on one pair and clipping them on.

"You are in _your_ kingdom, you bow to no one. At most, you just sort of nod." Armand fished out the matching necklace from the jewelry drawer before shutting it. "Gods help us all if you should move, trip down the stairs, and crack your head open. Some people would be very upset if you were to get any blood on their clothes."

"Oh! Wouldn't that be a diplomatic boo-boo," Rai replied smartly. Armand gave an uneasy grin over his shoulder which was answered with another _motherly_ look. "Job at hand, sir, to the job at hand."

Hitomi puffed out her cheeks before letting the air out.

"Doesn't sound too hard. How many people are there supposed to be?"

"About five hundred, give or take fifty," The mirror reflected his smirk so she could see it.

"WHAT!"

* * *

The guest drew closer to the shadows, not desiring to draw any unwanted attention. Hiding bodies was tedious work in a palace he wasn't familiar with and murder proved to ruin one's clothing.

The Palas bells began to ring as the sun set into the horizon behind him.

If she was late, she'd be paid in the worst possible way, but no, the woman quickly made her way across the gardens. Her head bowed slightly.

He had fully intended to bribe the young girl, but seeing her willingness to sing at his beck and call, he used her emotions against her. He'd yank on her heartstrings to accomplish his goals since she so willingly put them in hands.

"Sir," she curtsied with a smile that wouldn't be suppressed. Clasping her hands together the maid, Tere, if he remembered correctly, widened her eyes at the sight of him. She was no fool, though she was far from an intellect. The maid saw opportunity to escape her low position in this ambassador.

"Is it done?" He asked, keeping his voice smooth.

"Yes sir. I told him about the plans of departure and made sure he wouldn't tell anyone else."

"Gave him all the proper information I hope?"

"Yes," she stepped closer to him, he stiffened automatically. "I told him when and where and how to avoid the guards and everything." Tere flirted with her eyes as she waited for his reply. "And you, sir? You said you'd make it worth my while, what is it worth?"

His thin lips gave a small malicious grin as a shadow from the trees behind them moved.

"Come closer, small one, and I shall allow you to see your reward."

Tere beamed, started toward him when that shadow grabbed her bun of hair and yanked her back violently, exposing her pale neck. The soft skin on neck didn't last long as a sharp stone raked across it.

The maid gurgled on her blood as it sprayed and flowed from her slit throat before falling dead at his feet.

"I hope you have a location to dispose of her."

"Of course," The ambassador's grin was met with the murder's smirk. "I always think ahead."

* * *

It had been a grueling two days for Hitomi. There had been so many duchesses, lords, and generals that her head was spinning with information overload.

"I think there is more hierarchy than any of the other classes," Hitomi huffed, "and most of them look like they swallowed a few of their citizens."

Van chuckled lightly at her frustration. Hitomi loved to feel the vibrations from him as she laid her head and hand on his chest. Since the night she swore she'd be frozen alive, Van had been strangely accepting with the idea of them sleeping closer. For warmth only, of course, but it was still nice for her to feel like they were slowly becoming husband and wife.

Twisting her neck up, she looked at him as much in the face as she could.

"How are you able to tell them apart, Van?"

"I can't, really, but I was taught how to make them think you remember them," Van gave his boyish grin. "It's a trick my father taught me."

Hitomi sat up on her arms, eager to hear about the trick. It would be a relief to know how to escape from the ever judging eye of the aristocracy.

"What is it?"

Rubies looked back at her; he was emphasized exotic masculinity by firelight, especially the eyes. Those eyes were gazing back at her with an emotion she hadn't seen there until lately; it was one of almost happiness. It never stayed long when they were in front of other people, but at nights, like this one, when they were both wide awake, it would seep into his expression.

That gave her hope.

"So?" Hitomi prodded. "What is it?"

"Compliment them on something. Anything you can think of, a brooch, an aunt, something they said, regardless if they did or didn't. They will be so thrilled to be complimented they will go along with it and even speak very highly of you at every turn."

"So I can say they wore a nice dress one time and they'll be my best friend?" Hitomi asked.

"Yes," Van watched as a play of emotions flittered across her face.

"Huh," she dropped back down to her previous position. Yawning, she curled up to his side and closed her eyes. "Without that to worry about…." it took a few minutes and she dropped rather heavily into sleep.

Van closed his eyes tightly. In a few precious days, his kingdom would rejoice its birth with a grand two day ball for the upper class while the lower classes played games and drank themselves sick. It was also the test of nerves for Van. It had become a joke among the guests in the few balls past to try and find the ruler of Fanelia when a certain _princess_ made the scene.


	26. Who She Is

**Chapter 26**

* * *

"Madam, you look radiant," a maid gushed as her princess fixed a small flower in her hair to perfection. "You will once again be the most beautiful woman there."

"Of course, I don't spend all my time into becoming perfect to come in second place," the princess replied with a smirk. "Fetch the gold and sapphire tiara."

The maid bowed and scurried off to fetch the requested item. The princess traced her face with the tips of her fingers. She couldn't stop from admiring herself in the reflection of the mirror. Flawless ivory skin without a freckle or scar, eyes that were a rare shade and had, as many of her admirers purred, a deep mystery in them.

Smoothing her eyebrows, she drew a fingertip down the line of her nose, and then gently touched her lips. They could be soft and hard, kissable and cursable, pleasuring and painful and it was all her.

The maid returned and put the requested piece of jewelry in its proper place. The sapphire stones sparkled like stars at midnight set in a heavy weave of gold so elegantly crafted to hold and display the gems.

"Your highness, if I may be so bold as to ask…"

The princess flipped her hand back and forth as an answer, showing she couldn't care less about whatever a simple minded servant could think of to question.

"Why not wear the country's colors? Why _this_ one?"

"Because, I'm not one who wishes to be forgotten so easily," she picked up one of the many perfume bottles and began to lightly spray its fragrance on her neck and chest. "I'm representing the past tonight. I do hope he won't think me presumptuous by wearing Fanelia's crest colors."

She laughed lightly at her private joke.

"Why?" the maid queried, then quickly stepped back when her mistress stiffened.

"Because he broke my heart," the princess pouted. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a ball at which to be radiant."

* * *

"Are you nervous?" Van's attendant asked, tying his cravat with trembling fingers. "I would be your majesty."

"This happens every year," Van replied dully.

"True, but it's the Queen's first time. She will be swamped with many people, don't you think?" The servant brushed Van's coat free of debris and stepped back to make sure there wasn't a thread or piece of dust on the King.

"I'll be by her side," Van replied quietly, looking at himself in the mirror. He was without gloves neither a formal pair nor his everyday leather pair, and on his left hand was his wedding ring. It was the strangest thing to see sitting on his person.

* * *

Dryden tipped his scruffy chin up in the air, "I don't understand why everyone seems to be throwing fits whether or not you are going to attend."

"News travels fast," Millerna explained, powdering her face. "Bad news travels even faster."

"I never understood the purpose of these things. Everybody gets dressed up, puts on smiles, and throws darts at everyone else once their backs are turned. The clothes are uncomfortable and pinch in places clothes shouldn't." Dryden had been on a pessimistic rant about balls in general since they had arrived in Fanelia two days prior. It wasn't his normal flare, but once he tried on his tightly tailored clothing, the words were spat out underneath his breath.

"Not everyone hates these gatherings. I think they can be so much fun."

He gave her a rather dry look that she saw in her mirror.

Yes, what fun to tear the weak apart limb from limb."

"You make us sound like vultures."

"Impossible. Vultures at least are _comfortable_ in their feathers."

Millerna smiled at her husband's insaneness and traced her lips carefully. Being late, no matter what the reason, was just not done in her book of etiquette.

* * *

She fluffed her hair a bit more, and then combed it down. Armand had insisted she needed to make her hair 'big' in order for her not to look like a little girl playing dress up in mommy's clothes. The crown, too, was rather expensive and needed to basically be nailed to her head.

One hour, just one hour. Hitomi's mind was racing, she was subjected to tea parties, large and long dinners with people she didn't know and half of them she would never care to know. Already in the dress Armand had chosen for her, the same one that wouldn't allow for any extra snacks or allowed her to breathe comfortably. The knight insisted it would look fine as he shoved it into her hands and a quick retreat.

Rai laced up the blonde's bodice and sleeves. Hitomi fidgetted violently and causing her hands to be slapped several times for doing so.

"You'll mess up your lovely nails, milady," was all Rai said before attempting to make Hitomi look like a Queen.

"Where is Van?"

"In the dressing room across the hall, he'll be the one to escort you into the assembly tonight. Oh! What a lovely pair you two will make! His dark colors against your light ones, like night and day." The old maid had been a constant fountain of flattery all day, trying to calm Hitmoi's nerves.

"I'll go and tell Armand to fetch your crown." She gave a short curtsey and left the room.

Hitomi thought she appeared to be a blonde peacock with her hair here and there, but mostly straight up. She didn't look dignified; she looked like someone had just given her a heart stopping scare.

She had always been more of a tomboy, and now here she was dressed to the highest fashion Fanelia had to offer. To her, the dress was a rather daring change in fashion, not belling out like most dresses, but it kept rather well to her figure throughout the legs with a small flow to it in the back. It probably would have belled with the proper underskirts, but the dress maker nearly choked on his tongue when she suggested it.

"I look like a nightmare wrapped in an expensive cloth," she twisted her face and crossed her arms.

"You are radiant, your majesty," Armand's voice snapped her out of her self-analyzing to turned to see her faithful knight standing stock still in the doorway.

"A compliment? From you?" Hitomi noted he was dressed in formal military attire. His clothes were crisp and free from wrinkles and his hair was smooth and lay against his back in a chestnut waterfall. In his hands was a small pillow with a gorgeous, sparkling crown sitting on top.

"I was told, most emphatically, to be on my best behavior," he gave his cocky grin. "But as soon as the guests are gone, the kid gloves come off." Without another word, he walked behind her and told her to sit still. With skillful hands he tamed her hair while he placed the noble head wear.

A couple handfuls of pins to secure the pricey piece, and Armand declared her ready, or as ready as she could be on time. Offering his hand, the Queen stood up and lifted her chin; the weight of the crown wasn't as unbearable as she first thought.

Standing in front of the full length mirror, she turned this way and that, the gown shimmering like water.

"Are you sure this will be-," what was the word they kept drilling into her head, "_dignified_ enough?"

"Only the _dead_ are dignified," Armand rolled his eyes. He bowed low, "I'll tell the king you are ready."

Shutting the bedroom door behind him, he shook his head, closed his eyes and went to the door across the hall. Blindly groping for the handle, he found it and twisted the door open. Shucking off his thoughts, the knight straightened his shoulders, and marched into the room.

The king lounged in one of the chairs, his chin rested on one of his hands. There was a distant look in his eyes as he gazed at the fire.

"Your majesty," Armand began, "her highness is ready to decorate your arm and charm away your enemies." He was dying to add, 'as long as she doesn't talk.'

Van's shifted his gaze to the knight before back to the fire, but he nodded that he heard.

Armand clenched his fists tightly, trying to extract the will to say what he had wanted to say for a few days now.

"May I have a word with you, milord?"

That caught Van's attention enough to turn his face to the knight.

"I've been meaning to ask this for some time," Armand's eyebrows twitched. It took all the training to not wring his hands in nervous habit. "I would like to request to be reassigned."

"What?" Van was more and more intrigued. "Why?"

"Because I feel that I have taught her everything I am able to teach her," Armand reigned in his voice and his tenseness. "I believe, perhaps, she should be allowed to select ladies in waiting to attend to her, someone she would feel comfortable to confide in. Women have a silly need to talk to each other until one is either deaf or hoarse." He fought down a grin, "Or a man is driven insane with their clucking."

Van watched the knight intently and was silent for a few minutes; Armand seemed tense as he stood like a statue. The king gave a small smile.

"I won't reassign you, Sir DeCri," Van smoothly climbed to his feet, straitened his coat tails, and walked to the knight. "The Queen trusts you, relies on you, and I believe she views you as a friend if nothing else." Van put his hand on the knight's shoulder. "I can't take the security of your presence away from her."

"I don't think—" with a squeeze from Van's hand, the knight fell silent.

"Don't worry; you are doing a wonderful job."

The king walked toward the door, removing his hand from the knight's shoulder as he did so. Once the door snapped shut, Armand heaved a sigh of disappointment.

Van rearranged his neck bindings, not happy with being stuck in his formal attire for what felt like the millionth time in a week. The coat wasn't the problem, though he preferred sleeveless shirts, nor was it the pants, though he liked them to be loose fitting. It was always the neck! The very enclosed neck drove him mad.

When it was close enough to the time for them to make their entrance, Van knocked on the door, signaling Hitomi to come. When the door opened, she poked her head through the crack and gave an unsure smile. As she came through the door, it shut behind her, but Van's mouth hung open.

He had to give the tailor a raise.

The dress alone might be remarkable, but on her it looked absolutely stunning.

She fidgeted with her fingers, her ring, and bracelets, letting her uneasiness show. The wolves he called allies would pounce upon it in a heartbeat, but for once he didn't want to correct her. She was still human, something a lot of the royalty lost over their years.

Numbly he offered his arm to her, which she accepted gratefully. Two butlers waited for them at the top of the stairs, then followed the couple three steps in behind, ready to jog ahead to open any door, and finally to announce the royal couple when they made their entrance.

"Don't be nervous," Van reassured, "They're just people."

"Very influential people with egos that must be fed properly," Hitomi replied, wanting desperately to bite her fingernails. Her stomach, which was relocated in her feet, shrunk to the size of a child's tear. She didn't want to embarrass him or Fanelia. After spending so much time learning about the laws, customs, and past of the country; all the knowledge made her fall in love with it more.

They arrived in the hallway leading down to the stairs that went into the ballroom. The horns started to blare as Van gracefully walked her straight for the huge double doors.

* * *

"Why they have to play so loud, I'll never understand!" One lady crooned on. "It's just a waste of good air, that's all it was!" The lady happened to be a rather powerful duchess in some country to the south of Fanelia.

Hitomi nodded her head and gripped her wine glass tighter. She listened to this woman for about ten minutes so far and who knew how long this was going to go on. As much as she hated to be disrespectful, she kept eyeing Van who had his back to her as he chatted with other guests.

"AND! Can you imagine that dreadful girl coming back here! Oh! The humanity of it all!" The old woman snapped her fan open and began to fan herself "simply distasteful manners!"

"Who?" Hitomi asked, sad to say she was suddenly interested.

The woman leaned closer to the younger set of ears so eager to hear her. Holding up the fan to cover her mouth as she continued her rant in a lower voice, "I saw the impotent hussy. Dressed like she owned the place! I had the great unhappiness of making her acquaintance while in town. You know this kingdom has the most interesting jewelry."

"Does this lady have a name?"

"Why yes dear, she said her name was Leiko, the _sister_ of the _Queen_."

Hitomi's blood fainted in her veins. Her older sister—wait—did she say she was _here_? How! The security had been tightened to the point of frisking the guests every time they went into another room. Well, fine, not quite that dramatic, but it was still very tight.

"I see. I'll do something about this," Hitomi started to leave and the woman tagged on another word of advice that Leiko was looking for her lover, the knight.

This was _far_ from good. This was _so_ far from good that good appeared to only be a mere star in the sky it was that far from it. There were throngs of people chattering, dancing, drinking every drop of liquor in the palace, and still others who were all too happily enjoying the buffet.

Leiko was prone to making an idiot out of herself by flirting or by simply not taking 'no' as an answer.

As Hitomi hurried past a small group of people, one of them turned to watch as she fled. Smiling, the woman excused herself from the group and eyed her target.

A smirk covered her painted lips as she made her way toward the man she kept a steady eye on the entire night. With no girl in her way, she was free to attack at her own leisure.

* * *

"Sir Armand," came a purr of a woman's voice, causing the knight to jump. Turning, he felt his stomach sicken, but he kept a rather happy smile on his face. "How long has it been?"

"Too long," he bowed low. "And yet it never seems long enough," he added bitingly.

"Your wit never ceases to raise the question of your breeding." The princess gave her winning smile. "And I never cease to remember how _low_ it is." She circled him, raking her eyes thoroughly across his body from boots to brunette locks.

"Your words are like that of a toothless dog," Armand smirked. "Always trying to make its mark but coming up lacking. I suspect it must reflect in most areas of your life."

"You say mean things, but I know the truth." She reached up to touch him but he jerked away quickly. "And, if keep speaking of me with such sour words, you'll give me a bad name."

"I already have a bad name for you, princess," he paused, "I must say," Armand said stiffly. "You have chosen an interesting ensemble to wear here tonight— especially the jewels."

"It was a gift," she smiled sweetly, but it didn't work on him. He knew too well the rottenness that made her core. "An engagement gift from your _king_ if memory serves me correctly."

"Why wear tainted goods?"

"Because some things are meant to be seen, no matter how tainted." She pulled away from him, eager to melt back into the crowd. "And I'm sure the Queen would be deathly interested in such a token of affection from her husband."

Before he could reach out, grab her, or call to her, the dancers nearby dispersed and she sunk back into the crowd.

"Damn." He thought just once she would allow him to enjoy the ball, but _no._ The harpy had to get in the way and swoop down upon the innocent couple. There was something in the back of his mind that told him he should sit this one out and allow whatever to happen, happen.

However, the larger, nobler side of him yanked on his chivalry cord and sent him into action. She was headed for the Queen, that little strumpet couldn't be too hidden with all the puffy dresses.

* * *

"…it must be very refreshing to escape war by chance." The King of Aiame, Grue, was direct with his compliments and thoughts. Van was too used to the brutal honesty and didn't flinch at the barb.

"We did not escape war, sir," Van made sure he kept steady eye contact with his rival. To avoid eye contact would imply there was some guilt in his words, but Van knew he had done nothing so he could look the man in the eye. "Asutria or Freid never declared any such intensions and Fanelia did nothing to warrant war nor do we wish it."

The old man let out a rather loud 'humph' and excused himself.

The prince of Aiame witnessed, rather nervously, the tit for tat, and turned to Van at his father's departure.

"I-I pray y-y-you forgive my father's s-sour words," the stuttering teenager willed out. "B-but if you had he-heard what the am-m-mbassadors said, you would understand w-why Asturia was al-almost convinced."

"Ambassadors?" Van inquired, though the answer might take a while, it was still one he was desperate to hear. "From which country? What did they say?"

"I-I w-wasn't told _where_ they were f-from," The prince admitted, shamefully. "I h-had arrived l-late a-at the great hall, b-but I did hear them sp-speak most ill of y-y-your fair country, King Va-Van."

This was not good.

* * *

"Why are you staying around me?" Hitomi asked for the tenth time as Armand bumped into her from behind again, after she made a sudden stop. "Don't you have a woman to seduce?"

"The last time I fixed your bodice, my button caught so try to act natural," Armand replied dryly.

She rolled her eyes at his blatant lie, though he couldn't see it. She spent the last hour trying to hunt down her ever elusive sister. Sometimes she heard a laugh and went running in one direction then she heard it again in a completely different area. It was driving her mad.

After that, Armand popped out from behind a pillar and never left her side since. He wouldn't tell her why and she didn't feel the need to inform him her sister was lurking about.

Armand's eyes shifted from one side of the room to the other with a predator's gaze. She was somewhere, wanting Hitomi to be left alone for some reason. If she was the one who whispered that poison into the Queen's ear about the King being a dishonorable man, he had yet another solid reason to daydream of her being clawed to disfigurement by ravens. Honestly, the thought of King Van being a womanizer, it was positively side-splitting.

The unwanted princess gave herself away by mentioning her objective, a voice stated darkly in his mind. Then it hit him.

"Damn it!" Armand cursed out loud. It caught more than just Hitomi's attention. Grabbing her arm roughly, he dragged them toward where Van had been occupied most of the night. She was too clever for that! That creature was always manipulating things with her actions and words. She wasn't after Hitomi at all!

She wanted him to believe so Armand would stay away from her true objective, Van.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" Hitomi hissed, trying to tug her wrist from under Armand's grip. "You're making us look ridiculous!" she seethed and just as she was about to pull his hair to get his attention, he stopped dead in his tracks.

"It's her," Armand breathed out, feeling the prickles of his hair standing on end.

"Her?" Hitomi asked and peeked around the knight. Her eyes locked on the blonde woman who was shamelessly draping herself across Van's arm. He gave no inclination of interest as his stiffness increased. A surge of jealousy excited her.

"Who is she?" The Queen inquired, stepping forward to stand side by side to the knight.

"His lordship's ex-fiancée, I'm afraid."

The air caught in Hitomi's throat as she watched the pair. Van looked more solid than a statue as the girl seemed to be everywhere, like wind. That was her? That was the woman responsible for so much unhappiness? The jealousy was spiced up with contempt and side dished with a serious dislike of the woman.

"She's a princess, right?"

"Yes."

"What's her name?" Hitomi's eyes twitched as the girl leaned dangerously close to Van's ear. "What country?"

"Princess Serena of Zaibach."


	27. Blank

**Chapter 27**

* * *

Zaibach.

She remembered the numerous pages in endless volumes dedicated to that country and their involvement with Fanelia. Sometimes it was just to tell of their peace, other times the two were united with Asturia and wiped a rebel country from Gaia.

That wasn't what bothered her the most. This was the girl who had scared Van into a corner.

"What should I do?" Hitomi asked after her stomach twisted. She didn't want that woman hanging all over _her_ husband!

"Swoop in and save him!" Armand pointed out matter-of-factly, stomping his foot in a rather childish manner.

"What can I do? Grab a saber and threaten her life?" Hitomi huffed.

"No! Grab King Van and say you're the wife!" Armand instructed. "No blade can compare to an angry spouse, to her husband and those around her!"

"B-but!" Hitomi protested.

As was with most her protests, Armand ignored it.

"No buts! He is in lock down; you are the only one who can recover his pride and yours." Armand put his hand on her back and began to lead her to the couple that was quickly having rumors spread about them.

"Be charming! Witty! Everything that you can be when you choose to be," with that final word of encouragement, the knight pushed the Queen toward the couple.

Stumbling before catching her balance, she straightened herself, and held her crowned head up high. She was the _Queen_ of this country and the Van was her_ husband_, all the chips were in her favor.

…So why did she feel like she was walking to her execution?

The people parted as she drew closer, they wanted to see some action. If they were any lower ranking, Hitomi would have considered taking a running leap at the Princess, but they frowned at physical attacks in high society. Duels to the death with swords? Perfectly acceptable. Fist-to-face cat fights? Not at all.

When she was a few feet from them, Serena turned and saw who it was invading her personal-Van space. Hitomi felt sick to her stomach as she studied the Princess' face. It was the same woman who told her all those nasty things about Van at Slena's naming ball.

Gathering all the courage she could weave together, Hitomi boldly stepped next to Van and hooked her arm through his.

"Van," she said with a calmer voice than even she expected, "who is this?"

Van had been ready to run, but his upbringing wouldn't let him move an inch. The last person he ever wanted to see again was his ex-fiancée. Half sure she'd never want to show her face in his kingdom again, he was more than a little surprised when she had come up behind him, put her hands over his eyes, and purred out a 'guess who'. Afterwards she insisted on touching his arms, chest, neck, and even ran her fingers through his hair.

Van didn't say anything, if he didn't put all the effort into controlling his temper, he'd embarrass himself in front of a room full of very influential people. Apparently there were those who were looking to start a war and even more people thinking Fanelia wanted to start one. Screaming and forcibly removing the hands of Zaibach's only heir would raise a few eyebrows and questions he'd rather not have raised.

He was just about to grab her hands and insist she stop when someone caught her attention. He heard his name and then felt an arm around his. Turning, he saw the green eyes full of apology and aggravation.

"Allow me to introduce you," Van kicked back into his duties, it worked as a shield, and with Hitomi here, surely Serena wouldn't be as freely affectionate as she had been a few moments ago. "This is…"

"Princess Serena of Zaibach. I'm so happy to finally meet you, Queen Hitomi." Serena curtsied. "Van," she tsked, "why didn't you tell me about her? You don't have to hide anything from me, darling."

Hitomi tightened her grip on his arm and her hand itched as the thought of giving the girl a good solid slap across her face started to become more and more appealing. Armand was right about one thing, as Hitomi turned to look at Van, he was rigid and silent. He needed her now, though he probably would never admit it.

"I've heard much about _you_, Princess," Hitomi commented politely.

"I trust it was good things," Serena smiled pleasantly. "How sweet of you, Van." She ran her hand down his other arm.

"Hardly," Hitomi replied, smiling a bit bigger. Their little party had proven too boring for some and many of the guests turned back to their own business.

"Oh, did he elaborate on some cruel incident?"

"Just the truth of you, _that_ seemed cruel enough," Hitomi remarked smartly.

Serena didn't let that comment deter her.

"Do you like my tiara, your majesty?" Before Hitomi had chance to say anything, the princess continued, "it was an engagement gift from your husband. I decided to wear it tonight to please him. I wore many things to please him."

Van was about to lose his temper, but Hitomi knew if she lost hers, the prissy princess would win.

"Really?" She tried to sound shock and hoped it was convincing. "It's usually when I'm not wearing anything that I find him to be the most pleased."

"I can see why the council chose you, my dear," Serena smile flattened. "Your primitive, unrefined character is simply enchanting in its own lower class way." Facing Van, she gave him another one of her trusting smiles. "It seems as if my presence is not wanted here, if you'll excuse me."

She flashed a condescending glance at Hitomi before gliding away.

With a jerk, Van unexpectedly led Hitomi to the dance area of the gathering. Upon seeing the royal couple, the band started to play the national anthem. It was a wonderful slower song that allowed for a romantic dance for many couples. Romance was the last thing on either of the couple's mind.

"Why did you say those things?" Van asked as they started to move.

"Because you weren't saying anything," Hitomi replied, a delayed blush creeping up her face. "I-I was trying to do something for you. Trying to help you, to protect you."

The hand resting on the small of her back tensed, bringing her closer to him.

Van appeared impassive until his grim expression was broken by his own reserved smile before he leaned his forehead to hers, "thank you, my queen."

Her smile was reply enough.

* * *

"That was certainly counterproductive," Serena muttered as she entered her room at one of the higher classed inns. She grabbed the tiara off her head and threw it into a corner with all her strength, the thing clinked and clanked before coming to rest in a slightly dinged heap.

"Now what?" She asked herself, studying herself in the reflection of the mirror. "Now what?"

Tearing her eyes away from her image, she began to pace the length of the room. Serena had to think of a way to recover from this rather unproductive night. The Queen was proving to have some wits about her, Van didn't seem to have a torch for his old flame, and the knight was as obstinate as he always had been.

She turned sharply, her eyes stabbing at the trunk that lay in the furthest corner of her room. That was her lucky, sturdy rock. It was the wild card in her hand when nothing else proved to work.

Walking to the trunk, she pried it open. There it was all the simple and strong unique beauty. Serena reached out to stroke her beautiful creation, but stopped just above it.

"No," She said low, shutting the trunk with a sharp snap. "I can do this." Biting her lower lip, she called out for her maid. Dutiful as always, the servant girl appeared in a short moment. "Is there a way into the castle?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Show me." This was far from over.

* * *

Hitomi took in a long breath, held it, and then released it in a deep sigh. She was back in the safety of her bedroom, the ball had finally died down about two in the morning and the Queen was barely able to blink without falling asleep for a few seconds.

Opening her dressing room door, she shrieked when a little body sprung from the confines. The body didn't stay down for long as he wiped the sleep from his eyes, sprung up, and hugged the now fully awake Queen around her waist.

"Hitomi!" He chirped happily.

"Ch-Chid!" Hitomi was finally able to recover from the shock to choke out, "what are you doing here?"

The blonde boy looked up with his large blue eyes, laughed lightly, and pulled away from his beloved Hitomi; she noticed his right hand was heavily scarred. His injuries seemed to have healed well, even though there was still a certain gleam in his eyes that held a fear of the unknown.

"I came to see you!" He replied, "but I didn't want to be found so I hid. Aunt Millerna wouldn't be happy with me if she knew."

"Does she know you're here?"

"Nope!" The ten year old bounced on his toes with excitement. "She doesn't know that I was on Uncle Dryden's ship neither!"

That wasn't the best thing to do. Hitomi heard those menacing harpies of dark opportunity and their chants weren't too pleasant.

"I think we should tell your Aunt as soon as possible."

Chid automatically joyous attitude sunk into a pout and depression, "you aren't happy to see me, are you?"

"Nononono!" Hitomi quickly answered, dropped to her knees, and ignored the way her abused waist protested. "It's only that you'll worry your aunt! Your Grandfather is probably already beside himself." When that didn't work, the Queen grabbed one of his hands, and held it close to her. "I just want to make sure that it's okay with your family before we can play. I'll ask them if you can stay here, fair?"

That certainly did the trick as his attitude did a remarkable one-eighty. "Really!" He almost knocked her out the door trying to get out of it as fast as possible.

"You have to be quiet though, people are trying to sleep." Hitomi smiled and felt her aching bones moan their fate. Why did this have to happen _tonight_? She still wanted to see if Van was okay with his ex-love rearing her pretty little head like a pimple on a coming out party. Chid's appearance seemed almost surreal.

Just as they were to turn from the short hallway to the longer one leading to the main stairs, she heard something. Yanking the young prince back from where he was in front of her and to her side, Hitomi plastered herself to the wall and slowly crept forward until she could catch a glimpse of what she thought she heard.

She was right, and her heart began to sweat. Van was standing there, stiff, and unapproachable, but the one coming closer to him seemed to ignore that fact as she moved toward the king.

"What is it, Hitomi?" Chid asked and was hushed with a finger to his lips. She slipped down the wall, hugged the young prince close to her to prevent him from seeing and to stop him from talking anymore.

"I want to hear this," she whispered in his ear before straining her hearing to eavesdrop. Peeking around the wall again, still concealed, she was able to barely make up what they were doing.

"… you, Serena."

"I'm sorry about my manners earlier, I guess I was jealous."

_Jealous_? Hitomi questioned, from the way the woman was acting it was more like the princess was _offering_ herself to Van as some sort of sacrifice.

"Why should you be? There is nothing left between you and me," Van's voice was as an icy wind over a graveyard under snow.

"Maybe not now, but I was jealous you were able to move on." The detestable woman tilted her head down, trying to appear sincere and from the looks of it, was quite convincing. "I really did love you, Van," Serena's voice sounded sincere, but Van muscles tensed as she looked up at him. Her blue eyes were shining with tears and the moonlight hitting her face made them almost glow. "I was just horrible to you back then."

"Some things should stay in the past," Van admonished.

"Does she know you as well as I do?" Serena clasped her hands in front of her, and leaned closer to him.

The moonlight filtered through the stain glass windows and gave the couple a magical, storybook type aura. It was just another thing that made Hitomi feel like crying or kicking, she wasn't sure which or who.

"Have you told her all your—dirty little secrets, Van?"

Hitomi almost fell from her spot trying to lean out more to hear their conversation better.

_Secrets_? She thought his past engagement was his only secret. There was more?

"That doesn't concern you," Van swallowed hard. A rush of memories flooded his mind's eye. They did have some good times together, but he was married now. She had hurt him beyond all thinking. Van's fist tightened, he wasn't going to be a fool again.

"You loved me once," Serena continued, "enough to want to marry me. Maybe you still do..?"

Taking her opportunity, the princess placed a hand on either side of Van's shoulders and leaned up, stopping only after their lips met.

Grabbing Chid's hand, Hitomi jerked both of them to a standing position and then hurried away from the scene.

Lowering her head so her eyes were shadowed, Hitomi weakly murmured, "c-come on, Chid. Let's take the servants' stairs."

The last word broke as her feet twisted toward their intended path. Her heart felt like it weighed a million pounds. Wasn't it funny, a heart so heavy and yet shattered could still have the cruelty to beat?

Van's mind snapped back as he roughly grabbed Serena's shoulders and wrenched her away. His eyes gleamed with so much mirth and hate it took the princess' breath away. He tightened his grip on her upper arms, before using his strength to shove her away from him in complete disgust.

"Remember your place, princess," Van sneer, his eyes glittering with threats unspoken if she tried anything else. She was unbelievable. He was _married,_ but mostly he was respectable. He was a king born and bred there was no room for dangerous flirtation. She was a viper that much he convinced himself of long ago. "I suggest you go. Quickly."

Serena blinked back at him, her long lashes, and large blue eyes the picture of innocence. Van turned and headed in the direction of his rooms.

That angelic air dissolved into a bitter frown.

"Pleased with yourself?" One of her companions questioned teasingly from where he had hidden since the beginning of her fiasco.

"I'm very pleased with myself, but mostly with _him_," Serena beamed. "He has so much potential it sends shivers to my very soul."

"Should I stop him then?"

"No. Let him go." Serena smirked as she faced the figure, "it'll be easier to get Van in the end. And I will get him, I'll get them _both_."

* * *

Hitomi walked in a haze. The child's hand in hers was the only anchor of reality, as she fought to keep the tears from falling. The only reason she hadn't broken into a sobbing mess was two reasons. One, Chid was with her and the child would only be upset if he saw she was miserable (or had suddenly turned into a hysterical crying lunatic). The second reason and the most stinging, was the small voice in the back of her mind that reminded her she always knew he wasn't over Serena. First love always ran the deepest and polluted the heart when/if it went bad.

Van was her first love and it was making it hard for her not to understand where he was coming from.

"Hitomi?" Chid asked, tugging on the Queen's hand. As she glanced down at him, Chid's bright smile melted away. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," she lied, head still bowed.

"Your highness?" Snapping her attention to the voice and making sure the snug mask of calm was over her face she spotted Sir Jill. He was the youngest one of the knights and had proven to be a bit of a practical joker and comedian so to see him with a serious expression was unusual.

"Sir Jill," Hitomi acknowledged, clearing her tight throat. "What are you doing awake at this hour?"

"Patrolling," the man's eyes drifted down to the young prince who shifted nervously under the man's gaze. "What is he doing here?"

"He stowed away," Hitomi explained, "I was taking him to his aunt." She felt her heart twist, "B-but I wonder if you could do that instead?"

"But Hitomi!" Chid spoke up, "you said I could come back with you!"

"We can play later, right now, we should both be asleep." She smiled down at the pouting boy who took his hand from hers to cross his arms over his chest. Sighing, she met Jill's eyes again. "Would you?"

He bowed slightly, odd for Jill who was usually flustered around her, "of course."

"I'll talk to you later," Hitomi assured and squeezed the boy's shoulder.

He motioned for her to come closer.

She leaned down as asked and Chid surprised her again as he threw his arms around her neck and hugged her tightly.

"Even if no one else does, I love you!" When he let her go, there was a pink blush painted across both cheeks and his nose.

"Please make sure he gets back to Princess Millerna," Hitomi smiled weakly as Jill nodded curtly and reached out his hand, brushing hers in the process.

The world went white.

_Chid. Screaming, kicking, and reaching out. A force of black and red lashing out at him, Hitomi putting her hand up to block it from hitting her, but instead it went past her. Twisting around, she saw the two tendrils snap like a vice around two different wrists. The captives struggled, but were viciously ripped them from where they were. Hitomi opened up her mouth to scream, but nothing came. No one came…_

"Hitomi!" Chid's voice and the gentle shaking of her shoulders was able to draw her out of her trance long enough to study the two faces in front of her. In the next heartbeat, her eyes rolled back in her head as she went completely limp into the arms of the unconscious.


	28. Come a Little Closer

**Chapter 28**

* * *

"There sure are an impressive amount of—shoes about this morning," the maid remarked stepping over a maroon shoe as she carefully balanced a tray in her hands.

Armand, who had been told to come quickly, leapt the last step of the staircase, witnessed the shoe battlefield, and the lone maid standing amid it with raised eyebrows and a growing sense of dread.

"Yes, yes, there is," Armand agreed, that nasty little bug of bad luck must have bit him while he was sleeping.

"Why do you think that is?" She asked, knocking on the doors leading to the inner chamber of the royal couples' room.

"How should I know?"

"Who is it?" The Queen's asked weakly from the other side of the door.

"I have your lunch, your highness," there was some clinking, the lock being undone, and then a small crack allowing the maid through. Before a single breath was taken, the door was shut, and locked again.

Shoes and a locked door?

Armand was a smart man and felt the need to make a quick exit before the King could put him in the middle of this insanity that had cropped up. Shoes and locks could only mean something went horribly wrong between the end of the ball and this morning. Knowing this haphazard couple the way he did, it was no big surprise.

"Armand," the voice was tired but strong, and caused the knight to jump in surprise. Squinting, the brunette was able to make out what appeared to be his Lord and Commander sitting against the wall about thirty feet away from his bed chamber door, one leg drawn up with his arm draped over it. "Come. Here."

His feet obeyed even though the smarter side of him wished he could turn around, run to his room, throw his covers over his head, and make whatever was wrong go away. Sighing, the man dropped down to one knee, enabling him to look his King in the eye best he could. He was as loyal as a dog and that made his life unpleasant at times.

Van lifted his chin up slightly when Armand came to rest in front of him.

"Why did you get her so many shoes?"

Armand blinked in surprise. That was an interesting question to ask, comical almost. Did she run out of room in her dressing room and invaded the king's? If that was the case, life would be peaceful soon enough.

"Because they all go to different dresses and outfits, my lord."

Van scoffed and turned his head to the side, "_she _was using them as munitions—throwing them to force me from the room and then she locked me out." There was a heavy coat of bitterness over each and every one of his words.

Armand couldn't stop a heavy sigh from being extracted from his lungs.

"Why would she do such a thing?" He asked, feeling as if he entered a sword fight blindfolded. "What provoked her?"

"Serena," he spat.

The answer wasn't so surprising, the angry tears bordering in Van's bloodshot eyes was a shock that made the knight lose his balance and land on his back side.

"She came here."

"I know," Armand whispered, a bit guiltily. "I thought she was going to bother the Queen so I stayed close to her, little did I know her true objective or I would have forewarned you, highness." He paused; Van's eyes were still locked directly on him. "Forgive me, my king."

Van only heaved out a breath; Armand clambered to his feet and reached out a hand of help to the other man.

The ebony haired royal accepted it, was half way to standing when he decided to add, "she saw Serena kiss me."

Armand's hand ripped away from Van's as if it were a dragon's snapping jaws. Not having his balance yet, the king fell roughly on his arse, rocked back, and bumped his head on the wall behind him. Rubbing the sore spot, the king studied the knight's reaction.

"_What_!" There went all of the knight's sympathy for his king. "Y-you-!" The knight turned from his king, staggered away, and reached out to the wall for support. With his free hand, the knight put it over his heart and panted a few breaths.

"Are you alright?" Van questioned, using the wall to stand up.

The chestnut hair moved like a curtain, revealing the man's face, "I think I just had a small stroke."

Van flipped his eyes to the ceiling. Armand wasn't in bad enough shape or old enough to have a stroke, but he was always over dramatic.

"I didn't _want_ to," Van stated _very_ clearly. "She surprised me and I pushed her away."

"You did this in _front _of the Queen?"

If Van was any other man, a man who didn't have the power to have Armand killed with one word, the knight would have speckled his question with words questioning Van's intelligence.

"_No_," Van pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes screwed shut. "Not intentionally. She said she was walking the halls when she overheard and saw everything." He shook his head slowly from side to side.

_I wonder if it is too late to become a monk in Freid? _

It was starting to become a really wonderful idea to the knight. He either wanted to be a monk or get a raise.

"Did you tell her all this?"

The maid opened the door, slipped through, and shut it quietly. Without a sound she disappeared down the steps. The men watched her leave and Van sighed deeply.

"I tried to, but it's rather difficult when one is constantly being beaten with footwear." Casting his eyes toward the knight, "she's got a good aim."

Armand couldn't help but smirk at that comment. The little roughen must have been quite a tomboy in her younger days, meaning just days before she came to the palace. Ever since that little lady (and he used the term loosely when speaking about her back then) came to the palace, his life had become more hectic.

"I want you to watch her, talk to her. She won't listen to me," Van insisted and Armand nearly faked another stroke. "I've already told all the other servants to tell the guests she is ill."

"B-b-but-!" His mind groped around desperately for an excuse that would let him out of this situation. Van was well aware of what he was trying to do, but with one pointed look the knight slumped his shoulders like a scolded child. "Yes, your majesty."

"I'll be attending to the guests. I already missed breakfast, now lunch; rumors will start soon if I continue to be elusive." With that, the man ran his hand through his hair and left into the hall.

Armand had several things running through his mind, all which would make a true lady _or_ gentleman blush.

Taking a deep breath, Armand rapped his knuckles on the door.

"Who's there?"

"Your worst nightmare if you don't open this door right away." A few quiet minutes ticked by and Armand's mouth twisted into a sardonic grin. "If you don't open up, I will be forced to burn down the door and the entire castle will catch fire, burn down into a smoldering heap, and I'll blame the whole thing on you."

The lock clicked and he triumphantly allowed himself into the room. He gave a sad whimper as he took in the suite. Shoes were strewn everywhere, the bed sheets looked like someone wrestled in them, and the room was generally a wreck.

"Trying your hand at decorating?" Armand asked sarcastically.

Hitomi dropped onto her bed, curled up on her side, her face away from the knight.

Why couldn't he be in the field? Or an ambassador? _Noo_, he had to be the baby-sitter for a woman who refused to grow up! Of course sometimes his lordship could be equally as childish. He wasn't going to say anything to them about his observations. He was too smart for that faux pas and would rather not have a ticked off royal couple over his head. After all, they were the ones who filled his money bag.

"I was told what you saw." She curled tighter into herself. He stepped over a small hill of high heels and proceeded toward the bed. "Did you even hear his highness out before you started your-" Armand picked up a shoe and sat down next to her on the bed, "-single sided war of the wardrobe?."

"Have you ever been in love?" Hitomi asked with her heart on her sleeve.

Armand anticipating a smart remark or dry look, but that question wasn't what he wasn't either.

"I-was pulled into that vortex before, yes." Armand answered, feeling a light blush kiss his cheeks. He gripped the shoe he was toying with tighter in his hand. "Why so curious?" His tone dropped, Caria's smile filling his mind's eye.

"How do you get out of it?" She asked in a weak voice.

"You make it sound like a pair of shoes, not meaning to reference your chosen projectiles, but you can't pick and drop what you feel." With that, he dropped the shoe to the ground.

Hitomi slowly maneuvered until she was on her back, staring up at the ceiling. "I thought it was supposed to make you happy, why does it hurt?"

"Because pain makes the pleasure all the more valuable," Armand replied flippantly. "Either that or it's the gods' grand design to drive us all into raving, scratching lunatics."

"He said he didn't want her to," she admitted, "and I want to believe him. He seemed sincere when he thanked me for what I said to her earlier. I think she was offended, despite what she might have said afterward."

"What you said?" Armand's eyebrow arched. "What could you possibly say that would have offended that nasty little beast-creature in petticoats?"

"She was going on and on about what she wore to make Van happy, but I came back with—saying that no clothes on made him happier." Hitomi turned her face away, bright red cheeks already started to glow.

"I can't believe you said something like that!" Armand leaned away from her quickly, feeling that stroke feeling overtake him again. "That's not exactly a proper thing for a royal lady such as you to say."

"I'm a just an adopted royal, remember? Underneath the jewels, fancy dresses, and title…I'm just a normal girl." Hitomi's shoulders slumped, "and I'm blaming you for that comment." She gave a weak smile. "I think you're rubbing off on me."

"First of all, if anyone were to strip away all the jewels, dresses, and so on—you'd be stark naked." Armand shook his head. "Second, I'm not going to be blamed for two wicked tongues. I get into enough trouble with just one without having to add yours to my credit."

Hitomi remained silent as she went into a sitting position. "What should I do?" She asked at last, the weight of the situation coming down on her shoulders yet again.

"Can I borrow a pillow?" Armand's voice was sickly sweet.

"Why?"

"I have yet to decide whether it is to muffle my screams of frustration or your screams for help-" the sweet voice was melted into an acidy tone. "-because you have been a blinking idiot!" He rolled his eyes and jumped to his feet, "_have been_, ha! _Are being _an idiot!"

"W-what?" Hitomi blinked in surprise.

"What should you do? Is this a real question?" Armand threw his hands up into the air as he started to pace. "You should listen to him. Give him a chance. You say you love him then give him a chance to explain himself without having to duck and weave from parts of your shoe collection!"

Hitomi just kept blinking.

Armand sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "stay here. You look like you went to an all-night pub." He gave her a very smug look, "and I don't want to have your bad looks marring my perfect record of fashion."

* * *

"I want to see her," Chid said quietly, staring out the window of the great ship that hovered close to the castle. He had been at his aunt's side since he woke up; admittedly the royal couple was surprised to see their small blonde nephew at their bedroom door so late at night. Dryden had been relaxed about it, smiled and said he was happy someone interesting came to the party.

Millerna had been a bit more frantic.

The princess sent out a messenger directly to inform Asturia what the prince had done so no one would worry (or start a war in all the confusion). The boy only smiled shyly and repeated he just wanted to see Hitomi.

"I heard that she isn't feeling well," Millerna explained. "Perhaps, she's caught a cold? I don't think now is the best time for you to visit."

Chid frowned a bit at this news. "But she promised we'd play together."

"I'm sure you will before we leave," Dryden remarked, flipping a page in the book he'd been reading. After Millerna caught him giving a 'kiss' through the glass to one of the mermaids, he found it wiser to stay near his wife. It was also nice to get away from his accountant who had a horrible way of raining on his happy parade.

"I want to see her _now_," Chid whined as he turned away from the window to face his aunt.

"Apparently, why else would you stow away like a common criminal?" The boy winced at his uncle's barely concealed scolding.

Chid glanced down at the floor, his blue eyes lacking the happy light he usually had in them.

"We'll stay an extra day," Millerna amended, trying to make the small boy happy. "Will that be okay?"

His head snapped up, a grin covered his face. "That would be great! That would be perfect!"

Dryden put his book down and huffed, "this will make my book keeper ever so happy." He rolled his eyes and climbed to his feet.

"You have to understand, Chid, you can't just run off whenever you want to," Millerna touched his shoulder gently. "You do understand, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," Chid pouted, "but I had to see Hitomi."

Millerna sighed; if the Queen wasn't already married she feared nephew would have them engaged just so he could have his new best friend around him for always.

* * *

Armand cleared his throat and without a glance his lord answered his signal.

"How is she?" Van questioned, looking over a few papers scattered over his desk. His eyes were glued to them, not even sparing the man the common decency of eye contact.

"I've consulted with her," Armand said curtly. "Have you spoken with the guests?"

"Of course, they think she's pregnant," Van was actually able to deadpan that comment.

Armand had the more entertaining reaction as his mouth fell open, "Is it possible?"

"No."

"Too bad," Armand muttered in what he thought was under his breath, but when Van's head snapped up the man suddenly found the grain in the door distractingly interesting.

"Is there anything else you wish to discuss?" The king's lacked any humor. He tended to be on the edge when he had a rough, sleepless night.

"May I talk to you privately, sir?"

One of Van's eyebrows hiked up, "As opposed to what you were doing..?"

Armand shut and locked the door, just in case. "I meant: may I speak freely, sir?"

Putting down the papers of trades and other business, Van gave Armand his undivided attention. "Fine."

"Do you know what it is a married couple is _supposed_ to do?" Armand asked, very sincere. "I know your parents died at a very early age, so maybe they didn't get around to telling you what a man and woman are supposed to do. You see when a boy-"

"Leave," Van snapped. "Now."

"But I'm trying to-"

"I'm not having any conversation about this topic with you, Armand," Van ordered firmly, roughly picked up one of the papers again, glared at it, and tried to will his blush away.

"So sorry, sir, but—you know, it's not a crime to be attracted to _your_ spouse."

"_Go_." Van's eyes narrowed on the knight. "_Now._"

After the harried knight shut the door, Van put his paper back down slowly. Leaning back in his chair, he folded his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. He was tired from not sleeping and having all the stress of the guests and their comings and goings. The most obnoxiously elusive guest to keep an eye on was Serena. In order to prevent any other interruptions in his life, Van had the security tightened. He wasn't sure how she got in, but he didn't like it.

Somebody had to have let her back into the palace after the ball.

But who?

* * *

It was only a few hours after sunset when Van opened the door, ready to spring back if any shoes decided to fly his way. When he thought it was safe, he crept in, shut the door, and scanned the room for his bride.

He spotted her, sitting on their bed, her fingers working clumsily on her dress's bodice. She seemed so intent on her work she hadn't even heard him enter.

"Do you need help?" Van asked as unstrapped his belt and sword.

Hitomi twisted her head around quickly to see her husband set down his sword in one of the chairs by the bathing room. She turned back just as fast, feeling something strange in her heart. It was a mix of being scared, guilty, and hopeful. It made her mouth go dry, her throat tighten, and her heart heavy.

How could she say it was her own insecurities, and lack of wanting to hear something he might say in the _other_ woman's favor that made her crazy? She couldn't bear the thought of Van wrapped up lovingly in any other female's arms; the images conjured up by these thoughts made her feel sick.

Maybe there was a way around this without having to drag it all out and up again. For all she knew, they might erupt into another fight, and Armand took all her shoes and locked them up in a trunk he had put in the room earlier.

Standing up, her head swimming a tad bit from lack of sleep and crying herself into an emotional volcano bit her lip and glanced at him over her shoulder again.

He always took everything in stride, always so calm and smooth. No emotions seemed to linger long on his face, which was both a curse and blessing. A curse to those who were trying to get into his heart and a blessing to those who wanted to hurt that heart.

He stripped off his shirt, probably preparing for the second ball scheduled for tonight. This one was supposed to be more for relaxation and renewal of acquaintances than participating ball.

"I can't get the ties undone," Hitomi disclosed. "Armand tightened them too much I think."

Fanel's eyes had been on her, though through a side glance, since she stood up from the bed. When she began to talk, he actually looked at her with well masked eyes. Nodding, he told her to come closer. Hitomi immediately obeyed and turned around to allow him access to the stubborn knots.

Van wasn't as able fingered as Armand when it came to silk knots. He tugged and picked at them for a while before they finally relented. He started to unwrap the ends of the lacing from their hooks, considering Hitomi wasn't a contortionist, and couldn't do it by herself. The more he undid, the bodice would gape open further, and gave him a tempting view of her smooth, pale skin and the slight dip of her spine.

His fingers barely brushed her exposed skin, and it was through iron control that the king didn't trace a finger from the base of her neck, down her spine with his fingers. Oh, he wanted to, and badly. It was a hunger he had pushed away many times since he was thirteen, but the thoughts of right and wrong didn't apply to Hitomi.

She was _his_. There was no shame in wanting and having her.

Van felt something odd in his throat and swallowed thickly. Images bloomed of seeing her green eyes consumed with passion and—

"I'm sorry," Hitomi's softly spoken words broke him from his rather wickedly delightful daydream.

His hands stopped their work, "What?"

"I'm sorry," she repeated, lowering her head slightly. "I—jumped to a conclusion." She gripped the skirt of her dress tightly, "I was afraid."

"Of what?" Van was stunned at the deep, husky edge his voice had to it.

"Her. You." Rotating her head until she could regard him, "You seemed to really miss her and with her _here_, I thought that you might," she abruptly turned her face forward again, not wanting him to see her uncertainty.

She thought that he wanted _Serena_? If Hitomi could have read his mind only seconds before her apology, she'd have no doubt about whom it was he desired. Van's mind couldn't process exactly how his wife had come to such a conclusion but it _did_ come up with a simple solution.

Hitomi found it very hard to breathe as Van's hands left her back, one of his arms encircled her waist as the other one went across her chest until his hand rested on her shoulder, and pulled her flush to his chest. She barely had time to recover before she felt his warm breath on her neck as he moved his mouth closer to her ear.

"I don't want _her_, Hitomi," Van whispered low. He could have told her the sky was pink or pigs were going to start raining from the sky, and it still would have made her shiver. It wasn't what he said, but it was his proximity, the deep and rough tone, and the way she could feel his heartbeat against her back.

Her knees turned to jelly as he turned his face slightly, kissing just behind her ear lightly as he breathed in her scent.

"Van…" she managed to get out, a light blush feathering her face. Gingerly she reached a hand until it touched his that tightened around her waist. That blush only went deeper as she felt her bare back and his naked chest tingle where they were touching. His every breath made her heart race faster.

"Believe me," Van's husky voice ordered gently. Hitomi's breath came out in irregular rhythms as the hand that had been innocently perched on her shoulder slowly moved, traced the lines of her collar bone, to the other shoulder and to her back. She gasped as the not-so-innocent hand slipped over her shoulder, and down to where the bodice was open. Van's fingers brushed underneath the clothing, caressing her side, and effectively making her forget everything but the extreme heat he was stirring up within her body.

Van's heart was pounding in his chest like a war drum. He blamed it on his tiredness and stress, but he couldn't pinpoint why having her so close to him made all that seem like a miniscule problem. There was a momentarily skip in his heartbeat as she started to pull at his arms which he instantly slackened, removing his hand from her clothing, but didn't let her go completely.

Pivoting slowly on her heels she faced him, and he saw her flushed face, parted lips, and the desire flickering deep within her eyes. It was an acceptance, not a rejection, Van's arms tightened around her again. Hitomi had both of her hands firmly placed on his chest as she gazed up at him.

Van found it difficult to inhale as he met with her eyes, they were so full of emotion and it wasn't like anything from this morning. Her mouth was slightly parted before another rational thought could enter either of their minds; Van effortlessly brought their lips together.

For a moment she was caught off guard and had her eyes wide open. That didn't last any longer as her eyes fluttered closed and slid her arms around Van's neck, pulling him closer to her.

Easily slanting his head to one side, Van was able to intensify the kiss. Their lips melted together, Hitomi felt her heart flutter like a butterfly's wing as her stomach felt like fire. When he gently licked her lower lip, she opened her mouth and let out a low moan as he thoroughly examined her with his tongue. Shyly she returned the gesture and by the way he was clutching at her sides, his hands bringing her hard against his hips and chest, she thought she wasn't doing too bad of a job.

When she nipped at his bottom lip, the deep growl he gave in response rumbled through his chest, causing her toes to curl.

She loved this man and this man let his guard down and showed her a great deal of emotion with this rather hot kiss.

All creatures need air, and they had to pull back a few inches. Both had heavy eyelids and clouded eyes. Van's hand slid from her side until it was lost in her golden hair. Hitomi couldn't move, all she could do was stare at his beautiful garnet eyes and cling to him for support as her legs had become rather unstable.

What was it they had fought about earlier in the day? The fuzzy happiness and basic hunger made it impossible for her to concentrate although, in truth, she wasn't trying too hard to think of anything else.

Van, on the other hand, wasn't pretending to care about any higher functions as he leaned down to her again. He dominated her in the kiss, making her feel like the most desirable female on the planet. The strength in his arms and the power of kiss caused her brain to faint away from any thought besides what he was doing to her.

Her knees lost their solid state and turned to liquid, thankfully Van's grip only tightened to make sure she couldn't escape. As she ran her down his neck, causing that wonderful growling noise again, her mind went completely white.

For a moment in the world, nothing else mattered. Not the tiredness both of them were suffering from, not the guests downstairs, not the past, or the unknown future. Everything was about the person they were holding.

_Knock, knock._

The noise on the door caused the pair to separate as quickly as oil and water. Hitomi's flushed face made filled Van's vision, making him forget all about the interruption.

Another knock brought him to his senses enough to answer.

"Yes?" Van was irked then he let himself know as he jerked the door open and glared full force at the person on the other side. His eyebrow ticked. "Jill. What?"

"I-uh-was sent to fetch the queen and you, sir." He swallowed, seeing the Queen half dressed over the king's shoulder. "The celebrations are about to start."

"Fine." With that, Van shut the door. Jill took a quick step back and blinked in surprise. Well, wouldn't Armand be interested in knowing about _this_. The knight smirked, of course, telling him would come at a price.

As Jill walked down the staircase with a whimsical smile on his lips, another figure, hiding in one of the nooks, grinned inanely.

Everything was going according to plan.

So far.


	29. Downpour

**Chapter 29**

* * *

Neither Van nor Hitomi made it through the second celebration night without falling asleep in their chairs. Everyone just smiled and most thought they were still in the 'newlywed' state of existence.

When it was time for everyone to retire, the bleary-eyed couple made it to their room, changed into the proper night clothing, and collapsed in the bed. Not having slept for a full day made falling asleep extremely easy.

Neither of them was too cheerful when Armand burst through the doors the next morning with a big smile and a tray full of fruits and small teapot. "Good morning!"

Van cracked an eye open and Hitomi muttered, rolling over. Seeing the lack of response prompted the knight to fling open the curtains and this time both royals sat up.

"What are you doing here, Armand?" Van asked, his raspy morning voice lacked the proper threatening authority that he would have liked.

"Why! Bringing you your brunch," Armand's painfully cheerful disposition made Hitomi roll her eyes as she dropped back down onto her pillows. At her actions, Armand beamed, "Rough night, milord and lady?"

Van swung his legs over the side of the bed, trying to make the sleepy veil lift from his mind. "Where is the maid?"

"She allowed me to come in her place since she is still such a sweet, _innocent_ child." Armand tipped his head to the side as he placed the tray down on the table by the bed.

Van eyed the food, slowly climbed to his feet, and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands as he stretched.

"It's too early for your implications," Van pointed out. "What are you playing at?"

Armand grinned like a child who just learned how to blackmail his parents out of candy.

"Oh, nothing my King," he started to hum as he left the room, shutting the door quietly.

Hitomi had struggled out of her sleep by then and was slowly making her way to the other side of the bed. She paused, sighed, and pulled herself out of the bed. "What was all that about?"

"Only Armand knows what Armand talks about half the time." He shook his head, "Makes me wonder why he asked to be reassigned."

Hitomi snapped her head around, "What?" She snatched her robe and quickly put it on as Van picked up a peach and started to devour it. "What do you mean reassigned?"

"Two nights ago, he requested he be taken from his current position as your bodyguard and allowed another task."

Hitomi's heart dropped. How could that man do that to her!

"What did you say?" By this time, she had made it around to Van. She touched his arm, drawing his attention to her.

"I told him 'no'," Van answered honestly. "We better get dressed. The guests will be leaving shortly; we have to bid them good-bye."

* * *

"Are you sure he wants to do this now?"

The man narrowed his eyes on the other male, "Yes." A scowl etched into the taller man's face, "Or are you going to disobey a direct order?"

He shook his head slowly from side to side with wide eyes, "N-no. Never."

"Good," the shadows seemed to swallow him up, even in the morning hours as he stepped back into them. "Do what he says or be prepared to suffer the death of a traitor."

* * *

Hitomi stifled a yawn as the last carriage pulled away; she had her arm looped through Van's as they stood under the roof of a small tent erected to prevent them from being roasted in the afternoon sun. She didn't remember so many people coming, but she was never so happy to see so many people leave. The shop owners were grinning like fat cats at the royals. Having so many rich customers proved excellent for their businesses.

"Is that the last of them?"

"Only a few are staying longer," something in Van's tone made her uneasy. "Asutria for Chid's sake and-"

"Hitomi!" Chid's young voice broke through the normal white noise of a living city. Turning toward the voice, Hitomi smiled as the blonde boy raced down the street. Behind him was Sir Jill, running to catch up to the faster child.

Chid crashed into Hitomi with an over enthusiastic hug. She released Van's arm and leaned down to return the awkward embrace.

"Escaped from your aunt again, I see." Hitomi laughed, stood up, but not before finding and holding onto the young boy's hand.

Van cleared his throat as Jill came to slow, staggering stop in front of them, panting lightly.

"He has amazing stamina," the knight huffed out. He gave a shaky smile to his lord as he stood up and scratched behind his head nervously. "Princess Millerna requested I escort him to you, your highnesses."

"I see." Van replied curtly, making a mental note to ask Jill's training to be upped as Armand's had to be after the wedding. Turning to the woman and child, "Hitomi, I'm going back to attend to a few different matters."

"All right," she beamed up at him. "We will be back by dinner."

He nodded and turned back to the knight, "Stay with them."

Jill nodded and bowed quickly before running to catch up with couple.

Van watched as they walked into a crowd, melting into the people. To most of the city they probably appeared to be a young family. None of them were in the painfully obvious royal garb and therefore blended in with the rest of the society. Turning back to his original path, Van kept his head down as he made his way through his capital.

There were kids screaming, mothers screaming after the screaming kids, and men pretending to not hear either of them as they laughed on the corners. It was a peaceful time in the kingdom. It had been like this since his parents' marriage. His father had ended the last war with a brilliant military move. Fanelia was famous for their ability to amazingly maneuver forces no matter how large or small.

He loved these people, all these people. They were his responsibility, his pride, and the source of his determination to keep the peace. A soft wisp of a smile lay on his face.

"Van," came a sweet voice that made every hair on his neck stand erect.

The king paused, rolled his shoulders back, tilted his chin up, and narrowed his eyes at the royal woman.

"Princess," he said curtly and continued to walk toward the palace. He was not in the mood or mind to entertain his old flame, so leaving her alone was the best choice.

Serena quickly caught up with him, jumped in front of him, and smiled charmingly.

"Are you in such a hurry you can't talk with an old friend?"

Van's garnet eyes darkened as he lowered his head to stare her in the eyes.

"I'm wanted at the palace."

"You're wanted here too," she said in a suggestive tone, stepping closer to him. "Haven't I made that obvious?"

"Stay away from me, _princess_," Van's tone was deadly as he gave her a fixed stare. Her eyes enlarged as she leaned from him. Feeling as though he had made his point clear, the king moved past her, and continued to the palace.

Once he was a decent distance away, but still in ear shot, Serena smirked.

"What about your wife?"

He stopped.

"Is it okay if I play with _her_ instead?"

Van spun around, his entire stance was defensive. Stalking back to her until their faces were mere inches apart, he didn't have to think about how venomous the words should be or how low his tone had to be to make his point. Everything was in his eyes.

"Stay away from her, Serena," Van warned coldly. "If anything happens to her-" he trailed off, letting his ominous look fill in the blank.

"I see," she murmured. The danger that flowed off of him made her heart skyrocket. "Then you _will_ stay with me."

"No," Van stepped away. "I'm advising you to not interfere with me _or_ my family."

"Family?" Serena scoffed, backing away from him. "Does that mean she'll drop dead unexpectedly as well? Poor Van, never able to keep anyone alive."

Van tensed, but didn't turn around. She knew how to aim her darts and knew better which ones to throw.

So much for his happy mood.

* * *

It was late in the evening when Jill walked into the kitchen, seeking a piece of bread or something from the ever giving Rai. She obliged him with a full plate and a smile.

"How was your day?"

"It was," he answered, poking at one of the potatoes on his plate.

Rai's eyebrow rose in question, but it wasn't too long before both of them spiked up to her hairline. There was a singing coming from the hallway and drawing closer. It was the Fanelian national anthem and as the singer burst through the doors with a grin on his face, Rai sighed.

Armand had been high above the clouds throughout the day. One great event made him happy for two reasons. One, because there might be a promise of an heir and two, because his other problem might be solved because of reason number one.

"Good evening all!" The knight chirped out as he halted his singing, plucked up an apple, polished it on his shirt, and grinned inanely into its shiny surface. "Isn't it a _wonderful_ night?"

"What was slipped into your tea?" Rai requested.

"I think they slipped some sunshine along with the sugar and it is just radiating off of me like a bonfire."

"You're scaring me," Rai deadpanned. "What put you in such a jolly mood?"

"Why don't you ask this delightful man?" Armand ruffled Jill's short hair and made the man choke on his bread. "He told me, with some provoking, the most delightful news imaginable!"

"Oh?" Rai turned her attention to the other knight. "What's the news?"

Jill, blushing, put down his food and scratched the tip of his nose. "I guess it's because of what I saw last night when I went to fetch the king and queen." Both of them waited, Armand nearly hopping with anticipation. "They both seemed rather—worked up and both of them were improperly dressed for public."

"So?"

"So!" Armand turned around and grabbed each of his mother's hands. "They were _improperly_ dressed, meaning half naked and worked up! Both of them!" He started to dance with her around the room, Rai protesting every step. "That means that our King finally understood what a man and a woman are supposed to do!"

"I did see them, but I think I interrupted them," Jill added nonchalantly.

Armand's bubble of joy was shattered as his feet came to screeching halt. "You. What." The older man turned from his mother, his fingers twitched as he slowly raised his hands. Jill took one look at his superior and started to slowly back step a retreat. "I'll. Kill. You."

Those were the magic words that made Jill pivot on his boot and run from the room, Armand hot on his heels, screaming about many painful promises.

* * *

"Enjoy the afternoon?" Van asked, for once he was relaxing after dinner instead of practicing swordsmanship. He had was exhausted from the previous days' activity and felt it wasn't going to damage his technique to take another day off.

"Chid is such a curious child and Jill is –well, himself I guess." Hitomi took off her shawl and threw it on the back of one of the chairs. "Though he was unusually quiet."

"Jill?" Van pondered aloud. "That's not so strange; he doesn't do well in front of crowds."

Just then they heard a commotion from the courtyard, both glanced at each other and then hurried over to the balcony windows to see what was going on. Not being able to see much, they pushed open the door and leaned over the railing to see one knight sprinting only a few precious feet in front of another.

Hitomi started to laugh lightly as the lead knight raced around the fountain, then the trees, never losing ground to his follower.

"That's Jill."

"And Armand."

"Come back here!" Armand's shouted. Jill's responded with a rather feminine yelp.

"You deceitful little monkey!"

Shaking his head, Van went back to the bedroom. Hitomi closed the balcony doors after she came in.

"At least they waited for the guests to leave," Van said, trying to look on the brighter side for once.

"They are lively," Hitomi yawned. Deciding the bed looked more comfortable than any chair, she climbed on to it, and much to Van's surprise, she went directly to his side. Curling up next to him, she let her eyelids slide shut.

He was resting against the backboard; her head was on his stomach and her hand resting next to her mouth. Van continued his previous activity as he picked up the book he discarded and flipped back to the page he'd been reading.

_Does that mean she'll drop dead unexpectedly as well? _Serena's words still echoed in his ears. It was hard to ignore since they held an element of truth. Putting the book down, he gingerly stroked her flaxen hair.

Serena was right. Every time he found his footing with someone it dissolved because of death or disgust. Van leaned his head back on the headboard. Armand was pushing for him to care for Hitomi, which he did to an extent, but love?

In her sleep, Hitomi gripped his shirt and made a nonsensical word in her dreams.

Love—his mind drifted back to that word, that ghost of a feeling he had once understood and embraced warmly. The very idea of it made him suspicious and wary.

Then what about last night? It hadn't been what he meant to happen. She apologized and he just wanted her to understand her fears weren't founded in truth, just speculation. After that, when they kissed, he didn't want to stop. The way they kissed—it didn't remind him of Serena when the kiss had gone beyond what they had done before. He learned it from Serena, but he was just thinking of Hitomi and how, if possible, he could get her closer to him.

Shaking his head, the man lifted his eyes and stared at the fire.

It wasn't wrong to be attracted to her, Armand had said, but was it wrong to _just_ be attracted and want more than a kiss?

There was a knock at the door that made Van jump and caused Hitomi to come out of her light sleep. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes,

"That's probably Chid, I told him to stop by before going to bed so I could say good-night."

Making her way off the bed and over to the door, she opened it and found two sets of eyes staring back at her. One was a breathless Jill who seemed somewhat anxious as he kept darting his eyes from the door to the hall and around him, the other was Chid who grabbed Hitomi's waist in a hug.

"Good night, Hitomi!" Chid smiled up at the Queen. "I hope you'll come see me tomorrow!" Hitomi agreed and patted him on his head. "We can play some more!"

"I—I think it's time to go, sir." Chid glanced back at Jill and sighed, defeated. Jill reached out his hand, and Chid took it. Upon that contact, Hitomi's stomach nearly erupted as another illusion unfolded before her eyes.

_There was smoke, billowing from an enormous pile of wood and there were screams. The screams that seemed to almost bleed as the fire grew, consuming the people and eating up their screams. She was in the middle of it all._

_The vision started to break up as the smoke filled the sky with a blood red tint. Rain started to come down in the same red hue, making the Queen tremble with fear and distress. Blood! Blood coated her hands! Searching around desperately for any help._

_Then she spotted the only other recognizable two in the madness. Jill and Chid. Jill holding an sword over Chid. Jill lowering that sword in a powerful arc-right into-_

"NO!" Hitomi fainted away. Van was on his feet and next to her, trying to revive the Queen as she lay in a whimpering, unconscious heap.

"Get the doctor!" Van instructed harshly, scooping up the limp blonde. "_Now_, Jill!"

* * *

By mid-morning the next day, Serena sat at the vanity of her room at the inn, tapping the end of her hair pin on her slipper. There had been reports of a change at the castle that could cause all her plans to go up in smoke.

"Was that confrontation really necessary?" The man asked, his calculating eyes studying the woman as she drummed her fingers lightly against her face.

"Yes," she hissed, glancing in the mirror. "It was very necessary. It put doubts in his head and if they were already there, I just made them louder." Turning until she could see her face completely in the mirror she smiled at her reflection. Picking up her hair brush, she started to work it through her short, curled locks.

"He'll start to get suspicious about you," the man cautioned. "If we are to carry through with what we set out to do, you need to be trustworthy."

Serena smirked.

"He already is suspicious, but I believe there is still a soft spot in his heart for me." Winking at him in the reflection she added, "Besides I know his weakness." She scoffed and gracefully rose to her feet. "Anyone who knows Van, knows his weakness."

"Indeed."

The door flew open as a lanky creature crept through, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Your highness," the creature went down on one knee, putting a hand in front of him to keep his balance. "I have bad news."

"Oh?" She smiled maliciously. "And what might that be?"

"They're reassigning the knight," the man-creature said calmly. "The child is to leave with his family later today." He looked up at his princess, "What are we going to do?"

The other man merely tilted his head to one side, "This is only a minor problem."

"Oh is it?" Serena asked, grinning madly. "Seems to be quite a problem since that means we are going to lose our inside man."

"Only one of them, there are still those who are able to carry on without him." The man turned his head to the princess. "There are still a few of the servants who are loyal to Folken."

"And who would know better than the man himself, neh?" Serena eyed the dark clad man. Shrugging, she looked down at the kneeling servant, "We are going to stick to our plan."

The creature bowed his head as he stood up and left. Before he left the hallway, Folken emerged from the room, shutting it quietly behind him. "There is something I want you to accomplish before the ship sets sail."

* * *

"Ow!" Armand shouted as Hitomi hit him smartly on the arm. "What was that for?"

"You want to _leave_ me?" Her voice broke to an almost painfully high octave, causing the knight to flinch. "You were asking to be reassigned!"

Caught, the man scratched the end of his nose and looked away innocently. "Well-I-"

Hitomi glared at him, "You were just going to walk away? After everything you put me through you were going to just _leave._"

"You make it sound bad," Armand muttered, turning away from the Queen. "I thought you'd be happy to get rid of me!" He crossed his arms and stuck his nose in the air.

"I thought we were somewhat friends." He cast a momentary glance at her and felt a small crack of guilt on his mind. "How can you just want to leave?"

Armand brought his hand to his mouth, trying to distract himself from her.

"You wouldn't understand," he mumbled into his hand.

"What wouldn't I understand?" She begged to know.

He puffed out his cheeks and turned his head to the side. Hitomi was about to hit him again when the sound of thunder filled the air, rattled the windows and shook the doors violently on their hinges. Her hands flew to her ears as she stumbled away from the balcony doors.

Armand, on the other hand, couldn't move from his spot as his eyes enlarged to the size of tea cups. Reality stood on its head right before him. The screams and shouts could be heard in the late afternoon, like the thick steam of grey smoke rising up from the city as everyone's attention was turned to the disturbingly attention-grabbing sight before them.

"W-What is it?" Hitomi asked breathlessly, still not having turned around. When Armand said nothing, she finally peeked over her shoulder and her green eyes grew. She was not able to tear her eyes away from the thick smoky smear in the sky. Her vision thrumming like a heartbeat; she saw her illusion from the previous night mixed with the sight before her.

"That is Lord Dryden's ship," Armand forced out in a whispered, husked voice.

Tears welled up in Hitomi's eyes as her hands flew over her mouth. _Chid_. _Millerna_. _Dryden_. There was no way any of them survived that fiery, burning heap. Her heart beat so fast and yet at the same time it felt as if the whole world was standing still.

"Oh gods…" If it wasn't for Armand's strong arms catching her, Hitomi would have hit her head on the balcony railing as she fainted.


	30. Soul Drops

**Chapter 30**

* * *

The king of Asturia sat down in his throne slowly, his throat constricted as his eyes burned. He couldn't cry in front of all these people. He couldn't seem frail, not at this moment.

A messenger had just come from Fanelia with the news.

Millerna was dead.

Dryden's ship had been blown up.

In Fanelia, _by_ Fanelia.

"They tried to warn us," the king murmured to himself. The ambassadors from Zaibach had tried to tell them that only a few short weeks before. "Has anybody contacted Chid's father?"

"Not yet your majesty, he has not been updated since Chid went missing a week or so ago." The messenger kept his head bowed, how else was he to keep everyone from seeing him grinning?

"Call the council. _Immediately_," The king said in a firm voice that made the closest knight jump up, bow, and take off to do what was requested.

Sir Allen, who had been mingled in with the now whispering crowd in the throne room, bowed his head slightly as he slowly withdrew from the room.

He needed some time to think.

* * *

Van's counsel had been called up directly after the search party had turned up nothing but charred bodies and ruined goods. None of the people they recovered were recognizable. There was no stopping the inevitable trouble that was sure to follow the horrific event. Even though Van still claimed an innocent stance, he wasn't optimistic enough to believe any _other_ kingdom would believe him.

Such a bold move, a strong stroke might have been over looked with some hard diplomatic talk. but the death of three royal family members?

Never.

Another thing Van knew by personal experience. His brother had been reportedly killed by an Asturian knight during one of his trips around the kingdom. Asturia fervently denied such accusations, but Van never shook off the feeling of being lied to about the situation.

"Should we try to offer some type of peace treaty?" One of the members asked, wringing his wrists. The few white hairs on his head were going to either fallout from stress or be pulled out from his anxious heart.

"No."

"Then an explanation, an investigation. Maybe we could simply see if the explosion was brought about internally instead of externally," a slightly younger man suggested. "Perhaps a show of true concern and interest would dissuade Asturia from any hasty actions."

"That would only buy us time," Van returned. "Has an ambassador been sent to Asturia to keep our ties open?"

"Yes, your highness."

These were all stalling techniques, not a man in the room could deny it.

"We will not declare war," Van avowed, stood up straight, and made eye contact with each of his counselors. "I want to make this very clear before anyone suggests it. We will maintain our innocence until we know how Asturia reacts." He took a step down from his throne, his arms straight at his side, the tension thick in the room. "If we even collect our military we could send the wrong signal. Asturia, until further notice, is still our friend and ally."

There was a soft utterance of agreement and slow nods from the men before him.

"Send out the diplomats, write to the ambassadors in the neighboring countries, make them aware of what is happening and the course of action we are taking thus far."

After the men bowed, they scampered off like rats after cheese. Van sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. This was horrible. Everything was horribly wrong.

It was almost a signature act of sabotage, but there was no proof and no one to blame. If he started to point fingers, he could make other countries angry with him and Fanelia. Van's mind was thick and foggy, his breeding and teachings overriding any other senses of fragility under this tremendous weighty situation.

Closing his eyes, collecting the thin strings of his composure, he pulled them together and opened his eyes again. There were others who were greatly affected by this disaster. One in particular, who had repeatedly said it was her fault, cried she saw the explosion in a vision the night before and had rarely slept since the incident.

Sighing, he leveled his shoulders and decided to visit the Queen in a vain hope that things had improved slightly since this morning. He had appointed both Armand and Merle to watch over her. Armand was there to protect the Queen, while Van asked Merle to try and lift her spirits. The neko had been stunned and then promptly went into rant about not being allowed in the castle for the ball and then she had to play baby sitter to the spoiled brat.

After Van showed her Hitomi though, the cat girl instantly shut her mouth as her tail drooped. Merle was a wonderful girl, but hated to show her emotions to others, excluding Van naturally.

Knocking on the sitting room door gently, Van was greeted by a rather sterile looking Armand. His face was lacking its usual animated expressions as his tongue seemed to tighten from making any cutting remarks.

"Sir," the knight stepped to the side, allowing the king to pass through.

"How is she?" Van questioned under his breath, to make sure that the blonde woman didn't hear him.

"Hasn't budged except to grab a clean handkerchief, sir."

Spotting his wilting bride, Van felt something dense in his throat and a painful heaviness on his heart. He didn't need this on his mind! He had an entire kingdom to worry about; having a distraught woman under his wing was just the cut in the cake.

"Lord Van," Merle grabbed on to his shirt and tugged it softly.

"Not now." Van held up a hand, "I'll tell you later." Merle pouted, but let him go, crossed her arms as he walked to where Hitomi sat puffy eyed and the picture of depression.

"Is there any sign-?" It was a hopeless situation, but Hitomi couldn't stop herself from asking as she looked up at her husband.

"No," Van was never one to fluff up an answer to make it more bearable. "We finished searching through the debris two days ago, Hitomi. They are dead."

She nodded her understanding and turned away from him.

"He was just a baby," Hitomi whispered out, before clamping her eyes shut. "I knew what was going to happen. I saw it in my vision-"

It had been like this for almost a week, so absorbed in her grief she didn't even realize the larger problem. Van had been sad at the death, but having his people to worry about surpassed his sadness and prompted him into action.

Tormenting herself over the dead was doing no good, the living and how to keep them as such needed to be worried about. What was the point of bemoaning over those who had already passed?

As much as the man hated to admit it, he needed her support in this. After all these months, he had come to depend on her gentle strength, even though she was infuriating at times. She had been babied constantly since the event and he had to shoulder it alone.

The fear was building and he alone was the one to bear it since the Queen was out of commission.

"You're being selfish," Van blurted out. "You're grieving the dead when those who are still living need protecting."

"Selfish?" Hitomi echoed, almost as if a ghost had breathed it into her ear. She turned her jade eyes toward to him and slowly climbed to her feet.

"_I'm_ being _selfish_?" Her sadness was discarded for a momentary flash of anger. Van's eyes flickered with warning, but Hitomi's blazed with an inner annoyance that had been cultivating so long it turned into a riled up madness. "_You _have audacity to call me _selfish_?"

"Yes," Van bit out, garnet eyes glittering with anger and frustration.

Taking a calming breath, she leaned up to him, "I might seem _selfish, _but at least it is because I'm in mourning for someone _else_. Unlike you who is so," her hands were flittering around, punctuating her words. "-tied up, self-absorbed, and feeling sorry for himself all these years that he has completely forgotten what it is like to _feel_ anything for anyone else!"

Armand plastered his back to the furthest wall from the couple as Merle scampered up to roost on the large mantle of the fireplace.

"If I am so selfish, what makes you think I'll _ever _love you? Why waste your time and your heart on me?" Van replied hotly.

As soon as the words left his mouth, Armand sucked in a sharp breath, Merle nearly fell off her perch, and Van had the instinctive need to run for cover.

Then it happened. The worst thing that could have happen, did.

Those damn tears.

Blood drops of the soul.

Van felt himself lock up at the sight of them.

He didn't mean to shout at her, the stress of the situation was bearing down on him, and he took it out on the first person who had their guard down. She had been just as obstinate as he, not backing down an inch, and clawing at him with her words.

Any animal in pain often fought back viciously, any hunter or animal caretaker could tell someone that.

"I-I guess that says a lot. If you don't care at all by now-" Hitomi spoke solemnly. "How could tomorrow be any different? How can next week?" The tears slide down her cheeks steadily, her shoulders shook as her hands trembled. "If you don't know, Van,-I guess—I guess you never will."

He still didn't move, he couldn't. Those tears, the tone, and her words stabbed him to the core. Everything left him cold, aching, and feeling like he had just crushed his own heart in the palm of his thoughtless hand.

She shook her head before turning on her heels and running out of the room. Armand and Merle, who had been standing by, watched as the Queen left in a frill of skirts and tears.

Merle didn't say anything as she climbed down from her post on the fireplace mantel, giving him a solid look of disappointment before leaving the room as well. She wasn't happy with him, it was obvious. Maybe she didn't care two straws for the Queen, but Merle, with one disapproving glance, sent him a volume of information about how dumb it was to treat _anyone_ like that.

Armand stayed, Van had been staring at the door Hitomi ran out of, but he wasn't talking either. The knight leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and bangs shadowed his eyes giving him the picture of intimidation if the person looking on didn't know he was, in fact, a very soft guy with a rather bad habit of letting his mouth get away from him.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Van questioned, his voice raspy. He turned his head to the window sharply.

"What would his majesty like to hear?" Armand was addressing him very formally. The knight was usually very unhappy even livid when he pulled out his manners to hide himself in.

Van's eyes shot to the knight, his eyebrows drawn down making a 'v'. "Aren't you going to tell me that I'm an ass?" He hissed, "tell me that I did wrong."

"Why should I tell you to hate yourself, my King, when you are already doing a splendid job of it without any coaxing from me?" Armand never moved from his spot, never flexed a muscle beside his vocal cords. "And, might I add, you're doing an even better job of making _her_ hate you as well."

Van's fist tightened as he slowly went toward the window.

"But that's what you wanted, isn't it, milord?"

Van's fist lashed out, filling the room with a crack as his fist made contact with the stone wall.

* * *

"Then they never questioned it?" Folken inquired, studying the person who knelt before him.

"None," the creature replied simply, a small smile coated his thin, long lips. "They heard the message and asked no questions about the messenger."

"Excellent," the sound of metal clicking stone made the creature flinch and Folken lazily looked over at the noise maker.

"We need to do more."

"There is a natural build to these things, if we act too quickly, they'll discover us." The blue haired man had a small staring contest before the impatient one turned away with a grunt.

"Dilandau," there was a clear warning in Folken's voice as he spoke. "Everything you want will come to you, but only under my guidance."

"You move too slowly," the general pointed out. "I've already waited _years_."

"Then what should a few more months be to you?" Folken switched his attention back to the creature, "You should return. You are still needed for one more task."

The creature's eyes rose in question, "Who is the target?"

Dilandau grinned as he started to chuckle, "The only one who's holding everything together at this moment."

* * *

Allen stared up at the mighty guymelf.

It was only taken out in recent months so the knight could keep his instincts sharp and the machine in excellent condition. Never did he dream he would be suiting up in order to bring a kingdom down.

Touching the metal that made up part of the leg gently with his gloved hand, his heart clenched.

He was doggedly loyal to Asturia, nothing would ever change that, nothing and nobody.

"Did you hear?" One of his fellow knights ran up to the man. "It's going to happen!"

Allen's blue eyes were downcast as he turned away from the other man, "What is?"

"The war! The king just announced it! We're going to war!"

Allen sighed heavily, "Why have you come all this way to tell me?"

"Because the King wanted to see you, I think he wants you to be the one to tell them." The other man straightened his shoulders. "He wants you to act as an ambassador to Fanelia and tell them his declaration."

Allen made a noise in the back of his throat, this wasn't what he expected.

* * *

Armand sighed, rolled his right shoulder, and massaged it with his left hand. Two weeks, that's all it took. Just two weeks for the ninth pit to break loose and come raining down upon them. The King was being especially obstinate about certain matters that dealt with a certain female.

If there was any type of reward to give to those with the famous foot-in-mouth syndrome, Van would wins hands down. Repeatedly.

Sometimes Armand had to wonder if it would make life easier to physically shove Van's foot in his mouth.

Hitomi had spent much of the day that Van shouted at her staring out from her balcony, at the spot where the great ship had crashed. She hardly responded to the knight no matter what he tried and he tried almost everything. Chocolate, food, teasing, scorn, yelling, and even, as a last resort, offered her more shoes.

Finally, he searched his mind. Pretended it was him who had hurt her, and tried to think what would make her feel better. Feeling awkward as ice, the knight finally embraced her.

She had been pretty dried eyed up until he hugged her, but after that it was like opening a floodgate. She cried, saying over and over how much Van must really hate her.

Armand had to tell her just as many times that King Van was under a great deal of stress, but what got her to crack a soft, watery smile was when he also added, "He's male and prone to saying stupid things."

He didn't know the particulars of what was happening behind closed doors, but he could theorize Hitomi was sleeping on one of the couches in their room, near the fire. The maid said she'd been picking up blankets from that location all week.

"I didn't know how good I had it," Armand muttered as he leaned his head on the wall next to his quarters in the palace. Blindly feeling for his door latch, he found it, and cracked one eye open as he realized he'd have to talk to Van in the morning about being so much like himself. That guy just had to learn sometimes you fight, other times you beg, and sometimes you just beg to fight.

Rubbing his forehead with his free hand, the knight entered into his room. Looking up, Armand's eyes widened.

"What are you- You're not supposed to be-" there were no other words as the visitor closed in and before the knight could react, a knife had plunged deep into his gut. Twisting it violently, the attacker backed up, and raised his blood soaked hand.

The light from the hallway illuminated the attacker, a grin spread from ear to ear. Armand coughed, shifted from foot to foot as he slowly pulled the dagger out, and threw it across the room. There was not much else he could do.

Quietly, the attacker side-stepped his victim and exited to the hallway. At the door, he looked back at the pitiable creature. Some knight.

It was just _too_ easy.

Back in the room, Armand's vision swam. He couldn't have attacked the person or defended himself; if he tried it would have only hurt himself further. He knew who it was and he'd manage to get the attacker after he healed.

_If_ he healed.

Fear slammed into him. This could be it. He could die.

"_Jill_!" Armand finally bellowed. "Ji-!" The knight fell to his knees, swayed for a moment before falling on the ground bonelessly.


	31. Over You

**Chapter 31**

* * *

Tears spilled from Hitomi's eyes and on to Van's shirt as he held her close, one hand on the back of her head and the other on the small of her back. They had found Armand passed out, pale, and with his precious blood being soaked up by his rug.

Sir Jill had been the one to find his fallen comrade. He called the doctors up immediately, informed Rai who promptly woke up most of the palace staff with her shriek. There was a mad rush, then silence and waiting.

The king and queen were notified without delay, despite the late hour, for fear there was a traitor on the premises. As soon as Hitomi had shook off the sleepiness she was told of the emergency. All the pain Van caused was completely forgotten as she turned around and clung to him.

Van had been shocked, but having her with him, so close after her complete avoidance of him, was a relief. She didn't object to his arms around her, nor did he mention anything when she wrapped her arms around his lean waist.

Tragedy always worked this way. It drove people together, but it always required a payment. This time, it was Armand.

Van squeezed Hitomi closer to him. Armand was the closest thing to a friend he had since his brother died. Armand had been through his brother's dying, his mother's dying, Serena, his marriage, and so much more. Although the man proved aggravating in more than one situation, he was loyal and obedient without flaw.

Someone was out for blood. At first Van had thought it was to just start a war. With this latest attack, he knew that it was personal. Someone was making a statement, a bold and vicious statement. He or she struck out at someone who wouldn't be guarded, but regarded as an important person to the royal family.

One name went through his head; it was just like _her_ to be so underhanded and cutting. Serena and Armand _never_ got along. Serena had even met Caria once and made the girl tear up, much to Van's surprise; Armand nearly tore the princess' head off with words as he came between Serena and his young bride.

Zaibach was a lethal opponent. It was a closed country, letting only select people enter its boundaries and even less people out. Even the head general was spoken of in hushed voices. Van never heard the name, but the man's reputation had spread like fire throughout the countries of Gaia.

Hitomi didn't want to admit it, but when his grip tightened around her, she felt more secure. Her friend, though she would usually use that term loosely when mentioning the knight, was in bad shape. They had been sketchy with the details and Rai's constant sobbing hadn't proven any help in hearing the soft spoken doctor.

What had Armand ever done to anyone? Sure he was obnoxious, but at least he was always there when someone needed him! And sometimes when he wasn't wanted, but it wasn't the time to start thinking negatively.

"We will let you know if anything new occurs," the head doctor muttered, shaking his head slowly as he turned and walked back into the room where Armand was laid out.

"I think it best if you majesties were to go to bed," Rai smiled, but her voice was motherly. "If anything happens-"

Van nodded, slipping a hand off Hitomi.

"Thank you, Rai." Reaching out, he touched the woman's trembling hand, and squeezed it gently. "He will be fine. Armand won't leave us." Van tried to guide Hitomi, but she wouldn't budge. Tear filled green eyes looked up at Armand's mother.

"I don't want to go." Hitomi said weakly, "I want to be here."

Van looked helpless for a moment and Rai smiled at his open confusion.

"What would Armand say?" The mother in the woman came out as she put her fingers under Hitomi's chin and gently lifted it. "I know what he'd say, 'If there is such a thing as beauty rest, then you should be in bed more often'…or something to that effect, am I right?"

Hitomi gave a weak smile, picturing the knight with one of his hands on his hip and the other pointing directly at her. He'd say something just like that and end it with a cocky smirk. The woman nodded, and it was with a firm and gentle hand Van led her back to their bedroom.

* * *

"You are the most trusted knight I have, Sir Allen, why wouldn't I choose you?" King Aston said plainly. Since his back was to the blonde, the knight didn't see the smirk over the king's face. It was very early in the morning, and the man had been on his way to his chambers when Sir Allen had caught him by surprise.

"Sir, I have no history with this country." His blue eyes shut slowly, thinking. After Allen found out about his mission, he wanted to have a private meeting with his king. "Why not send someone else who is more affiliated with the country?"

"Because if they have a past with them, then it would stand to reason they might empathize with them. I will not have anyone jeopardizing the safety of my people." The king was never one to beat around the bush. He didn't trust anyone and he didn't like Allen, two birds with one stone. "Chivalry demands that you obey, as your own conscience should."

"I will, of course, see my orders through, your majesty." Allen bowed to the man before leaving, allowing the king to continue his journey to his bedroom.

Allen had hoped it could just be a warrior, but an ambassador? This wasn't going to sit well with him until it was over and done with. He shook his head as he started off toward the docks to make sure Gaddess had the Crusade ready to depart at first light.

"Allen," the man turned, hand on sword ready to strike, but relaxed when he saw the calm face of the second princess of Asturia emerge from behind one of the pillars. "Why are you trying to avoid this?" The woman drew closer to him. "Millerna was brutally _murdered_, we should be doing everything we can to make sure her killers face justice."

The middle princess had always had a way of being over protective of her sisters. She defended her sister Marlene's memory, and always shielded her younger sister, Millerna, from as much of the cruel reality of the world as possible. Being a knight assigned to the castle and the royal family, Allen had been able to interact and know all three of them.

He turned away from her, "They will be."

"How can you be so cold?" Eries asked, her voice dipping in temperature.

Allen gave a steady stare at her highness, "I'll grieve, but only after I find justice."

That made Eries straighten up a bit as the blonde knight bowed before he continued on his way.

The more he thought about this, the less comfortable he felt. He hadn't been one hundred percent honest when he said he had no ties to Fanelia, but those were ghosts meant to be kept quiet in his closet.

* * *

Funny, Armand thought, he didn't remember anywhere ever being this white. It was like he was punched and the impact sent stars before his eyes, except these stars filled up his vision.

It was strange.

There was a thrum in his body, something like pain, but it didn't hurt as much as pain did. The more time that passed, the less it hurt. The less it hurt, the brighter the white seemed to be.

White was such a boring color. It was so cold, hardly friendly, or intimidating. Black, now _that_ was a color. It was mysterious _and_ intimidating, but it wasn't friendly either. People always ignored black places. Something about the darkness was just too sinister and unapproachable.

Armand heard a jumble of voices going back and forth about something he couldn't quite grasp. It was like a dream, but no one felt pain in dreams, right?

Yellow was cuddly, he thought absently, feeling weightless suddenly. In the weightlessness, he was standing, he saw himself in a double vision. He was himself, and yet, he saw himself. It was distorting. He tried to shake it off, but to no avail. It was like being pulled in two different directions.

"Armand?" In the bleak white with the double vision, he could still see her. Even if he was blind, he'd still know that voice.

She was just as beautiful as the day they met, but this time he savored that beauty instead of finding each and every flaw with it. Her eyes were just as soft and kind as they'd always been before he corrupted her with his bitterness. Straight locks rested gently on her shoulders, and flowed down her back.

"Come with me," her arm stretched out to him, her hand palm up, asking to be wrapped in his larger one. His eyebrows rose and yet they were trying to pinch together. How? How was this possible? It shouldn't be!

"Caria," he breathed out slowly. Never believing he would be able to say her name to her again. Tears were what he thought he should feel, but there came none. The weightlessness increased as her image clarified. "What's happening?"

She smiled and lifted her hand a bit, "You're going to come back with me."

Armand felt a peace replace the worry and confusion. It was something he couldn't remember feeling since Caria had died after their daughter passed away. He took a shaky step forward, wanting to embrace her. How many times did he wish he could just hold her again? To fight away all the guilt and all the troubles he held in his heart for so long.

With every step, the pain fluttered away and the peace grew. She smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she did so, just like he remembered.

But, he felt sick, there was something. Something in the back of his mind that was calling him, begging him to turn back. There was something that wasn't _done_. Someone still needed him.

"Armand," Caria said gently, making him forget the doubts for a second. With a soft smile, he reached out his own hand, ready to feel that touch he so long took for granted and missed to the point of illness. "We can be happy."

He snapped his hand away, his eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and only added to the sadness lacing through them.

"What's wrong?" Caria's calm exterior melted away into uncertainty.

"This is," he breathed out, tore his eyes away from her, circled the hand's wrist he reached out to her with his other one, as if holding it back from temptation.

"I don't understand," she was only becoming more upset. "Come with me." She offered her hand again.

"I can't," his eyelids clenched painfully.

"Why?" He could hear the tears in her voice.

"—I surrendered long ago." Armand smiled sadly, stepping back from the image. "This hurt—will never leave me. This is what I did to you; it's only justice that I live with it." As he spoke, he felt a new type of pain. Lower in his stomach and it wasn't emotional, it was almost physical. "I haven't served my time, if I go with you, I haven't paid my penitence for letting you die."

Caria hadn't moved away from her spot as her husband slowly back stepped away from her, further and further. She let her hand drop to her side.

"I haven't paid the price for making you _live_ like you did. You—always—" Blue eyes burned as his lower abdomen and heart flared with hurt. "I don't have the right to have a happy ending."

This time when he closed his eyes, tears leaked out, and he didn't reopen them.

At least, not in the dreamscape world.

* * *

By morning, Hitomi had finally fallen into a restless sleep. All the week's anger and pride had washed away with Armand's attack. She lay curled next to Van without a word or hesitation. He was surprised and slightly relieved by the contact, but never said anything. As he absently stroked her hair and found the night sleepless, his mind went back to where it had been going every night for the past week.

Selfish. They had both accused each other of being selfish, not vain, but inconsiderate of other's feelings.

Hitomi had no problem showing the world just how heartsick she felt over this and though he felt the same, Van didn't. He buried it within himself to suffer alone, as was his custom. If the King worried, the kingdom would worry more. If the King was sad and weak, the kingdom would appear pathetic and weak.

_"I know you were raised to be a king, but how about you just be a normal guy around me. I won't tell anyone." _Hitomi had said with a smile in Slena, the night when he was just a guest in a country and not a king_._

He absorbed that memory and locked it in his mind, not willing to let it leave.

Armand always pushed and pleaded for the king to open up to his wife. He was adamant it would help Van in the end, to have an extra pillar holding him up. Van, who hated to depend on anyone, had turned the idea down quickly, but he only made the decision inside his head.

Van's facial expression was of someone who had become slightly aggravated. He was starting to see where she might have had grounds for calling him selfish. In his heart he viewed it as protecting those around him, saving them the pain he might feel. It wasn't their responsibility to look after him; it was _his_ born duty to be the kingdom's sworn protector.

Hitomi shifted in her sleep and muttered something unintelligible. Nuzzling her face into his shirt as she finally settled down again. She was headstrong, overly emotional at times, and stubborn, but still he found her more than interesting.

Maybe he wasn't as honest as he could be with certain things. Maybe he couldn't say things out loud, it didn't mean they weren't there, that those things weren't real. He locked so much in his heart, mind, and throat that perhaps he was selfish. He didn't want to share himself with anyone. So many conflicting thoughts and ideas consumed him.

Along with a linage that no person could be proud of and Serena couldn't accept it.

Bitter memories swam up to his conscious mind. He had opened himself up to her and she had turned him down, called him an abomination he always thought he was. Love was supposed to look accept the flaws and eventually look past them. That's what his mother had always said.

He never liked asking for help, but it seemed to be one of the only ways to get over this.

Leaning back on the head board, Van closed his eyes and let a deep sigh out. Allowing his eyelids to drift shut, he was a few seconds away from fully embracing a dream when a light knock was heard. Opening one eye and lifting his head, the man sighed deeply when the person knocked again.

Gingerly, he slipped from under Hitomi, laying her down on the bed gently. She muttered something and groped around for a moment before relaxing back into her dream world again. Creeping across the floor, cautious not to trip over anything and thankful about how tidy the maids always kept this place, Van made it to the door and cracked it open.

A sliver of warm light illuminated one of his guard's faces. He was older than Van and his mustache put into question whether or not the man had an upper lip.

"Yes?"

"Sorry to bother you so late, sire, but I came to ask what should be done with the traitor."

"Traitor?" Van asked, puzzled.

"Sir Jill Guist." The head guard snapped his fingers, and two of the lower ranked soldiers dragged the tired looking knight forward, in cuffs and chains. Van felt himself straighten up. "He, after all, is the guilty one."

Van's eyes stayed on his young knight, who in reality was a few years older than Van himself, and then turned ever so slowly to the head guard. It was like watching a snake coiling his head to strike.

"Who took this liberty with _my_ knight? Who thought it was there right to condemn him?"

The head guardsman opened his mouth and snapped it shut quickly.

"The knights are my chosen guards." Van's eyes were bright and flickered with anger as he kept steady eye contact with the older man. "No one is to decide their fate but the gods and _me_. Anyone who has the audacity to think he can usurp me in regards to the knights will be punished. Sir Guist is innocent until otherwise stated. You will escort him back to his room and make sure he stays there."

Clearing his throat, the older guard bowed. "Yes, sir."

The leader snapped his fingers again and Jill grunted as they roughly jerked him to attention. Jill kept his head bowed, not making eye contact with the world. Van studied this roughed up man and pinned the guards with a fierce eye.

"I want nothing to happen to Sir Jill."

There was a clear underlying threat in his authoritative voice.

The guards bowed and with that, Van shut the door with a sharp click.

The head guard, Frec, grumbled under his breath. "Seems you're off the hook."

Jill slowly raised his head; the dried blood around the edge of his mouth was proof of the cruelty he had suffered at the guardsmen. He held the leader's eyes in a fierce stare and rasped out. "I did nothing wrong."

Frec snorted, "We'll see."


	32. Closer to You

**Chapter 32**

* * *

"I didn't do anything!" Jill stated for the third time. His eyes were heavy from worry and lack of sleep the past two nights had brought. "Why won't anyone believe me?"

"You were the one who had access to Sir Armand's room and you were Prince Chid's attendant while he was with us." A councilman spoke up in a gruff voice. "Do you honestly think this is all coincidence?"

"I _found_ him. I _heard_ him call out my name. I went to see what was wrong and I found him in his room in his own blood. I didn't _do_ anything!" Jill's explanation became more and more frantic as the council looked down upon this man. "I didn't hurt Armand!"

The king was seated, fingers steepled together in front of his face as he studied the knight's behavior. The council members had been throwing out rather harsh accusations for half an hour and the knight was wobbly from lack of sleep, but adamant about his innocence. Van had known Jill for years, the man was strange, and a practical joker, but hardly a traitor.

But it's always the ones you least expect.

The council, as well as most of the guards, thought Jill guilty. Maybe he was, but there were too many unanswered questions to condemn a man to his death or to the harshness of prison life. Van never had to sentence anyone to death; he didn't want one of his own bodyguards to be the first to his credit.

"Sir Jill," Van stated, climbing smoothly to his full height. "I am sorry about this inconvenience. Your reassignment still stands. I want you to be on your way to the western border by sunset, am I understood?"

The entire room fell silent at this firm, yet calm declaration. The councilmen's mouths hung open to various degrees as they switched their eyes from the King to the so-thought guilty party.

Jill nodded and then bowed low, "Thank you, King Van."

Not wanting to press is shaky, fading luck; the knight stood up and made a quick exit.

The council waited exactly two seconds before a verbal explosion occurred.

"Sire! You could have very well let a guilty man go free! What if he's the traitor? We'll be doomed." The oldest member was over dramatic, Van was sure. Still the King stared at each and every one of them as he spoke.

"I could have or I could have followed your advice and sent an innocent man to his grave." The sternness in his voice made the group hush quicker than an angry mother's glare at a group of rowdy children.

"I believe he's telling the truth." Van added.

"But sire!" Another member spoke up, "Isn't it better to err on the side of safety?"

"Why would Sir Jill have attacked from the front? Why didn't he kill Sir Armand?" Van questioned, his eyes focused at the man who stood in front of him. "Sir Armand is in critical condition. If he survives, he'll be able to identify whoever stabbed him. If Jill wanted to keep his attack a secret, why didn't he attack from behind? Why not the throat? Why help Sir Armand get medical treatment?"

The councilman backed away. The questions were good ones, and ones without answers. Now the man understood why the king didn't sentence the knight. "Are you sure?"

Van, knowing he had other people to attend to, straightened his shoulders. "I wouldn't have let him leave if I wasn't." With that answer, the king turned and left.

The councilmen exchanged worried glances; one thought seemed to be exchanged between them all.

_The new king is just like his father._

Van made his way through the palace hallways; he was supposed to meet Hitomi in the library. She was still worried and had to, for the time being, forget about their words that made them ignore each other before. To ease her mind, or to get it off of Armand, she decided to bury herself in studying the military history of Fanelia it tended to be more exciting than the laws, but dripping with blood and gore on every page.

"Lord Van." Merle appeared from behind a pillar and latched on to his arm. After a few steps, she gently spoke up, "How are you doing, Lord Van?"

"Well." He answered; not the complete truth, but this is how Hitomi found footing in calling him selfish. Shaking his head, Van turned his attention to the neko, "And you?"

"Fine," she answered promptly, but then released him.

Curious, Van looked over his shoulder at his foster sister.

"Actually there is something I wanted to talk to you about." Van's perked eyebrow was her only cue to continue speaking. "I was thinkin' about Lady Hitomi." Merle crossed one leg behind the other and touched a finger to her chin. "When I went to visit a friend in one of the nearby neko settlements, and there was a guy there who was really weird. He would space out and then be able to tell people things, things that came true!"

"A seer," Van labeled quickly, sighed, and crossed his arms. "What does this have to do with Hitomi?"

"She did the same thing, right? We all thought she had a nightmare or was too stressed," Merle turned her head away for a moment, "Or crazy." With that muttered, she faced Van again. "But she _knew_ somehow."

"You think she's a seer."

"I think it's possible," Merle replied with a shrug. "Maybe we could test her?"

Van looked thoughtful for a moment before raising an eyebrow, "How?"

"Uh-" Merle tapped the end of one of her fingers to her chin. "I have no idea."

They both sighed.

* * *

Dilandua's laugh was anything was as happily infectious as a flesh eating disease. When he was mad, truly mad, his grin was from ear to ear, showing clamped teeth, but the grin he wore currently was one of mock amusement.

"He survived," Dilandau drew out. The creature, who was at his beck and call since Folken had started to work with him, rested low on his knees. "He survived." He repeated, lashing out at the footstool, sending it flying into the creature before him. It grunted, and eyed the commander with fierce eyes. "Why didn't you slit his throat!"

The creature snarled, "I was told to injure the knight, not kill him."

Dilandau uncrossed his arms as he slowly stood up. "Or maybe you got soft at the last second. Lost your nerve." An armored hand rose and contacted with the side of the servant's face with a solid and wet noise. "I have no use for _failures_!"

A deep growl, from the pit of the creature's anger rumbled out, filling the air. Dilandau's smile stretched into his inane grin.

"Are you going to try to hurt me? _You_ who can't even kill a rat?" Raising his hand again Dilandau spat out, "You spent too much time with them. The sentimentality needs to be extracted from you."

As he brought down his hand for another blow, it was stopped by a much larger, stronger one.

"Dilandau," Folken said his name slowly. The blonde glared at where Folken's long white fingers were wrapped around his wrist. "What are you doing?"

With a smooth turn of his head, Dilandau's grin also changed into a deep grimace. "He let the knight live."

"I am aware."

Jerking his hand away from the taller man, he snarled, "What?"

"We are following _my_ plan now, Dilandau," Folken said sternly. "It was not in my plan for Armand to die now." With a grunt, the armored man faced away from the other two in the room. "For the next phase I need Armand alive and Princess Serena."

Dilandau made an inarticulate noise in the back of his throat, "Why do you need her?"

"Because politicians will only, seriously, listen to others of their same ranking." Folken explained calmly. "We must act quickly; we do not know when Armand will wake up."

The creature touched his cheek, rubbing where a rather nasty cut had been engraved on his face by the maniac who stood nearly shivering with rage. He couldn't understand why the general hated the princess so, but it was enough to make him almost kill her. If it was at all possible.

"Prepare her, Dilandau," Folken's eyes rested upon the creature who slowly tilted his head up. "I need you to play a part as well. If everything goes well, this will be the last time we'll need your image of him."

"As you wish."

* * *

"Your highness," a meek looking servant came up to the king and queen. They both paused as the nervous looking man rung his hands and stared at the royal couple. After much talking, Hitomi was finally convinced into taking lunch. They were just making their way back to the library when the servant stopped them.

"Yes, Gitus?" Hitomi asked politely.

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you, but, sire, you have a guest who is waiting in the main hall." Gitus swallowed hard, "It is Sir Allen of Asturia, and he says he has a most important message t-to tell you."

Hitomi exchanged her glance between her husband and the servant. Van didn't seem too surprised at this new development. He nodded, said he would see him shortly and dismissed the servant to do as instructed.

"What is he doing here?" Hitomi asked as soon as the man was out of ear shot.

"It's normal for once allies to send a messenger when they decide to go to war." Van hadn't even turned to look at her, his profile still listless in expression.

"Y-you're joking, aren't you?" Hitomi's voice was wrapped in shock.

"No." Van shook his head, "I have to go talk to Sir Allen, go to Armand. He needs to know you're there for him."

"What about you?"

"I'll come as soon as I'm done with the knight," Van answered honestly, he switched directions and started toward the great hall.

Hitomi resigned herself to visiting Armand alone, but something in her made her turn around to watch Van leave.

Van must have felt her stare or maybe wanted to look back to see her, Hitomi wasn't sure but he met her eyes for one second. His mask had slipped, his eyes shown with fear and uncertainty for a few brief seconds. He wasn't the King of Fanelia, he was just Van Fanel, scared and walking blindly into the future. Hitomi opened her mouth to say something but he had already rotated his face from her.

Despite the fact he was selfish, he still made Hitomi's heart flutter. She saw him for a few seconds, the real him. A soft smile traced her lips as she continued her way down to where Armand was being kept.

* * *

"Sir Allen," Van addressed the knight without much surprise or friendliness. He couldn't fake civility to the man who was here to proclaim that the country he served was going to do everything in their power to kill Fanelia.

"King Van," the knight acknowledged. "I hope all is well."

Was he mocking him? Van decided the best answer was no answer. Seeing Allen was alone, Van offered a question of his own. "Where are your shipmates?"

"Back on the Crusade, I came to the palace on horseback and alone." Allen fought the urge to give a sick smile, "You'll forgive me if I find it slightly unsafe to bring my ship into the Fanelia capital."

The callous statement made the young king flinch. All the bitterness was well earned, Van thought, since he would act much the same way if he was to be in Allen's boots. It was time to drop the formality.

"I doubt this is a social call," Van pointed out.

"No," Allen sighed, "it's not." Not wanting to stall since Van was making no pretenses to not know why he had an Asturian knight in his home at this moment. "I came as a herald from King Aston. He- felt it would be more- just to have me bring you the news."

It took all the strength the young king had not to let his shoulders slump. The tones in Allen's voice weren't hopeful. This wasn't a new alliance being offered, a trial, or anything as less fearsome. This was what he and his entire country feared.

"What is the message?"

"He intends to go to war with Fanelia." Allen almost looked sympathetic when he spoke these words.

Van nodded, acknowledging the message, "As can be expected. I hope you relay to King Aston that we are truly sorry for his loss and although it happened on Fanelian soil, we are still as much in the dark as Asturia."

"I feared as much. If you had a single person to blame, to hand over to King Aston, I'm sure he would reconsider." Allen approached the king; there was a slight half-tone of hope in the blonde's voice. "Are there any suspects?"

"No," Van answered resolutely. Jill wasn't a suspect; the king had officially pardoned him from suspicion though it was still wrapped around the knight. "But whoever it is has worked very hard in condemning this kingdom in Asturia's eyes."

"I was truly hoping to avoid any confrontation on this level, your majesty." He didn't want to go into war, ugly little secrets were sure to be exposed if they did.

"I understand." Van made eye contact again, "If you will please excuse me, Sir Armand's condition worries me and I would like to check on him." Van turned and was only able to take one step before Allen's voice made him look behind.

"Sir Armand DeCri? Balgus' son?"

"The same," Van kept his indifferent mask tightly screwed on to his features. "Why do you ask?"

"What happened? I was friends with Armand; we trained together under his father." Allen had a genuine concern and interest in his tone. "We even looked for Queen Hitomi when she disappeared."

Van's upper lip curled up for a moment before his mask came crashing back down, "There was an accident, Sir Armand is still in uncertain waters. The queen is down there now."

"May I see him, your majesty?"

Van twisted from the waist up, looking at Allen.

"Why? I thought you'd want to leave as soon as possible."

Allen shook his head, "he's my friend."

"You never mentioned this before."

"I rarely find the mentioning of whom I am and am not friends with a topic of much interest to many people of your rank."

Van nodded curtly, "Very well. I'll escort you to his room. But—I'm going to have to ask you to leave your sword behind."

Allen hesitated and narrowed his eyes slightly, studying the king, but Van wasn't budging an inch.

* * *

Armand was sweating, pale, and shivered every so often. Allen's visit was short and much to both of the Fanels surprise, he asked to stay in Fanelia until Armand awoke. Van had, again, been reluctant. Allen took a lot of energy and words into explaining it's not because of any secret military espionage, but genuine concern for his friend.

Van agreed, but not before he assigned twenty soldiers to stand guard at the ship. Allen had taken it in stride, even when he was separated from the royal family at dinner and as Merle growled at him as he left the palace.

Hitomi wasn't sure what to say. They were relieved Armand was going to pull through, but that left the awkwardness of their fight to flood back in. She didn't want to be the first to say she was sorry for rubbing salt into an open wound, but she also refused to pretend it never happened!

Should she sleep on the sofa again?

No no no no! Her back still had the impression of the loose spring engraved into her skin.

She crossed her arms against her chest and sat at the edge of their bed, on his side just as she'd done the night of their wedding.

Van entered the room, quietly shut the door, looked up, and then went about his business. Was he _ignoring _her? She glowered, worst than making any woman mad was ignoring them when they were. Well two could play at that game!

_Not really, though_ Hitomi thought. If she was quiet then he'd remain quiet and then they'd be stuck in this eerie _quite_ for a long time.

So, what was a safe topic?

"Why did Allen come to see Armand?" Hitomi questioned

When Van's shoulder's tightened, and he flashed a dangerous look she figured maybe she should have asked something else. Maybe dealing with carpets? It _seemed_ safe.

"He was here as a messenger for King Aston of Asturia."

"Oh." Hitomi took in a deep breath and had a pretty good idea that this wasn't any smarter than the first question, but took the leap anyway. "Was the message what you feared?"

"Yes, we're going to war." Van said simply, stripped off his shirt, and threw it to the side.

"Oh," Hitomi's responded lamely. So much for small talk.

He ran a hand through his jet black hair and turned toward his wife. There was even more pressure on him now since the threat of war was replaced by the breathing, cultivating _fact_. In numbers, Asturia had more soldiers, but in experience and tact, Fanelia beat them hands down.

Van was happy she hadn't pulled herself into the black pit of despair she had gone into with Chid's death. She was closer to Armand, but thank the gods she decided she needed to be present in mind. Maybe because no one was going to take pity on Hitomi and coddle her.

Shaking his head, Van tried to get rid of those thoughts. Hitomi was soft hearted, tender, and often too eager to express her emotions to the world. He gave a small grin and closed his eyes at that thought. When he opened them again, his maroon eyes instantly met with a pair of fire warmed jade.

His mouth slowly opened as he forgot about the kingdom and focused on the woman right before him. Her night gown was white and silky, shimmering with an orange tint from the fire and bunched in her lap. The gown had a matching robe made of the same thin, flimsy material. Was it any wonder she was always freezing dressed like that?

Van didn't even notice as his breathing hitched and then picked up pace slightly as he went back to observing his frail bride. He went up from her lap, paying a painful amount of attention at the way the gown caressed every inch of her stomach and seemed to tighten around her—

"Van?" Hitomi's voice broke his study as his eyes met hers.

The garnet color darkened to a deep ruby tone in his eyes, changing them into the eyes of a predator.

_That_ was a first, Hitomi observed. Here she thought he remembered his anger and hers at the hurtful words they stabbed each other with, but as he made his way toward her, she was losing confidence in that line of thought.

He didn't let another word leave her mouth or a question enter her brain as he firmly grabbed her upper arms and in one swift motion had her to her feet and crushed his lips against hers.

Her eyes flew open at this boldness and her entire body tensed in surprise.

_This was undeniably a first!_

Gradually, Hitomi's shock ebbed away and as she gingerly raised her hands up to touch his waist, she let her eyes close and indulged in this sudden, slightly overwhelming, show of affection.

Why had that fight been about again?

As she started to respond, Van released her arms and relocated his hands at her hips, pressing his fingertips into her sides, bringing her closer to his body with a noise akin to a growl when Hitomi opened her mouth to gasp as the pressure. Van took the opportunity to deepen the kiss by sliding his tongue into her mouth, exploring it thoroughly.

Hitomi's legs started to lose their strength of keeping her upright; she leaned into his stronger frame, and circled her arms around his neck. He slanted his mouth against hers to deepen the kiss further.

Why were they standing again?

Van must have had the same question filtering through his mind though Hitomi was amazed either of them were capable of rational, coherent thought at the moment. His hands went to the smooth curves of her shoulders and slowly drew his calloused fingers down the length of her arms, the robe falling like a dove to the ground, pooling at their feet.

With that done, Van urged her backwards gradually until she felt the mattress against the back of her knees. Gently but firmly, he used his frame to force her to fall back on the bed. Hitomi was breathless as the fall had separated them momentarily.

The hunter's gleam was glowing in her husband's face as he devoured her with his eyes. She felt her face flush with—with—well, she wasn't sure _what_ but she knew she didn't want him to just stand there and _look_.

Leaning up quickly, she grabbed his forearms and with all her might, she rocked back, making him lose his balance and land on the bed, on top of her.

She couldn't suppress a soft laugh as Van lifted his upper body from the surprise attack and let his disbelief color his face.

A heart beat later, the laugh turned into a throaty moan as the king counter attacked. He nipped and kissed the column of her throat, a hand teasing one of the thin straps of her gown.

She raked her hands over his bare back, loving the feel of him arching into her hands as she repeated the motion from his waist to the base of his neck.

_Armand would be proud._

He had fully intended it to end there, but his mind was just too willing to play word association.

_Armand. Stabbed. Traitor. Betrayal. Betrayed. Serena. Serena!_

_Oh hells, _Van cursed in his mind.

In his haste to prevent war with Asturia, he had lost track of the princess. Was she still in the kingdom? As much as he wanted to block this out, to push that blonde woman out of his mind and focus on the one so pleasantly underneath him, he knew he couldn't_. _

_Damn._

He pulled away from her, gazed down at her with half-lidded, clouded eyes. With her robe discarded, and the thin straps of her nightgown worked down to the slope of her breasts it was enough to tempt without exposing her completely. The hem of garment was half up her thighs, their hips seductively close.

Both were breathing heavily, staring at one another.

Why couldn't he have thought of this _later_? How he would love to just forget it and return to the previous activity, but that gnawing, cultured loyalty to his position wouldn't give away. With something between a growl and a groan, the man rolled to the side, sat up and planted his feet firmly on the ground.

Hitomi slowly reached a reclining position, using her elbows to steady her. That had been _intense_ and he pulled away? Confused was too simple a word to define the way she was feeling. As much as the thought made her blush, she had been enjoying it. She was pretty sure Van hadn't been disappointed with their actions either considering he was the one who started the whole incident.

Then he just stopped, looked at her, and moved. Did she do something wrong?

After a few minutes, and thinking it was safe to speak without her voice cracking from the emotions, she sat up fully and said, "Van? What-?"

He gave her a side glance and was on his feet a split second later, "I have to speak with my council."

He had to discuss _this_ with his _council_! That seemed a wee bit too controlling to her. He quickly walked over and pulled his discarded shirt back on. Hitomi shook her head, trying to clear the fog his kisses had laid over her brain. If she thought too much about what they had just been doing, she would burst into flames because of her embarrassment on the spot.

Keeping her head down, breathing slowly she waited for the door to open and shut so she could fret and go crazy about this new development behind closed doors. Oh, how she wished Armand was awake and okay! He'd know what to do!

Maybe.

What could possibly be next? A royal decree asking for help?

She would just die.

Gentle fingers lifted her chin up, and she was again surprised by Van as he stood in front of her, his eyes weren't as fiery red and hungry as they had been. Instead, there seemed to be a softer light in them. Almost apologetic? After a few seconds of silence, he let his hand drop and moved it to the hilt of his sword.

"Get some sleep."

Hitomi nodded mutely and in a blink of an eye Van was once again out the door. It took her half a second to let a _whoosh_ of air out of her lungs as she fell back on the bed. She wasn't sure if she wanted to scream with embarrassment or joy. She wasn't sure if she wanted to let him go find his council or drag his royal rump back into the room, so they could talk or kiss, she couldn't decide.

"_Men,_" Hitomi sighed, throwing on arm over her eyes.


	33. Truth or Dragon

**Chapter 33**

* * *

"But did anyone see her leave?" Van snapped, angry for more than one reason.

The first being the guards and council members he ordered out of their beds were all scratching their heads about where Princess Serena was currently staying in the city. The second reason for his frustration was being forced to leave his wife and a very agreeable activity to get them all here to put his worrisome mind to rest.

Which, he thought rather darkly, they were doing a very poor job of currently.

"You ordered all visitors out of the city," one man yawned, scratching his bed tossed hair. "Surely she left."

Obviously this guy was easy to outwit. Just because someone was told to run didn't mean they saddled up their horses and rode off into the sunset.

"I want someone to confirm she is back in Zaibach or at the very least out of Fanelia," Van's voice was tired, but it added a certain darker spice of hidden threats. "I want to know this within the next day—so I suggest you start immediately."

Van knew they would grouse and bitterly call him paranoid or even a name far worse as soon as he left, but that was just too bad. If he couldn't sleep, then neither could they.

If he couldn't get his mind off of Serena for the night, neither could they.

* * *

It was the next morning when Hitomi saw Van next. She wasn't sure what to think or how to act around him. For her it was a huge leap when he made such a blatant statement of interest in her, but when she greeted him at the breakfast table he only gave a nod of acknowledgement.

_That was it?_ Her mind screeched like a woman possessed. After what he did, that was _it?_

"How is Armand doing?"

"Same as yesterday from what the caretaker has reported," Van answered swiftly.

Hitomi had an urge to throw a peach at him. Why was it that he never seemed to understand?

She didn't expect him to start spouting off a love poem or anything, but a blush would've been nice. She was pretty sure she was going to explode when she woke up in their bed this morning, thinking about what he had started so unexpectedly last night.

Van must have felt her boring holes in the top of his head as he silently ate his breakfast when he stopped chewing one second and the next, slowly rose his head up until their eyes met.

"Is something wrong?" Van questioned.

Picking up her fork, Hitomi had to force herself to calmly stab her orange slice before she shrugged. "Not that I'm aware of. What about you, is there something wrong?"

"Only that you're staring at me," Van admitted.

Staring? Wasn't he being nice. She was _glaring _at him, and waiting for some sort of acknowledgement or explanation of his behavior. Sure, Hitomi mused, they were married but Van had never started something like _that_ before.

What if he was ashamed though? Maybe he just wanted to forget it? Perhaps he had come to his senses and instead of hurting her feelings (not to mention her pride) he made up some lame excuse to run away. Hitomi rethought that one. If he had been regretting and running away, then why did he come back and touch her face? Why the apologetic softness in his eyes?

"Why?" Hitomi finally asked, her anger subsiding remembering that rare look.

Van was drinking his tea and arched an eyebrow as if to say he had yet to learn how to read minds. Hitomi puffed up her cheeks before letting out a huff of air.

"Last night." Ah-ha! She was rewarded as a touch of pink kissed both of Van's cheeks. "Why?"

"This is hardly a conversation to hold at the table."

Hitomi inspected the room, besides them, there was no one. Rai had another girl (who only came when called) on dining service so she could be with her son, Armand, who wasn't there for breakfast for obvious reasons.

"I don't think we'll offend the fruit," Hitomi indicated by poking said fruit with her fork. "I want to know, Van."

He sat at the head of the table and she was on his left to the side. Close enough she could easily touch his hand.

Van tensed at the touch, but soon let his muscles relax.

"What is there to say? Do you want me to apologize?" He wasn't smug, he was uneasy.

She blushed, "I-" then Hitomi took in a breath and looked him in the eye. "No. I don't want you to apologize, if you acted out on your emotions."

He nearly choked again. This was the _last_ conversation he wanted to be hold. Moving his hand from underneath hers, he plucked up his napkin from his lap. Wiping his mouth with his napkin and putting it over his plate, he crossed his arms and met Hitomi's eyes.

Big mistake for him.

This girl had quicker mood swings than the stars could twinkle. She had been irritated with him and possibly bordering on anger but now? She was smiling at him with a smile that he could only describe as wistful. As if she knew a secret and wasn't going to tell anyone.

Emotions, she wanted to know if he acted out of love most likely. If he wanted to take their already precarious relationship past a door that would never be able to be shut again, he had to answer in the positive. Van cleared his throat, trying to buy time. He gave the thought a chance. In the end of his own short thoughts, he concluded the stress and his body had overridden anything else he might have felt.

It wasn't love, it was lust. Lust was an emotion, he wagered.

Sighing, he answered, "Yes. I acted on my emotions." Van didn't have it in him to hurt her like that; he couldn't tell her the truth. The fact was he was rather sick to his stomach just thinking about it.

Was it just lust?

* * *

King Aston smiled broadly at the beautiful woman who fluttered her eyes and smiled provocatively at him. He had been curious as to why the Princess of Zaibach had requested a private meeting, but he was certainly glad about it now. She was a remarkable creature. Blessed with large blue eyes, golden hair, and a body men would beg to touch.

"You said you had information regarding my daughter, Millerna?"

"I was in Fanelia when your daughter's trade ship was destroyed."

"Many people were," Aston answered sharply. "Is that all?"

"But not many were allowed palace access before the accident. I happened upon a scene that I'm sure would be of great interest to you." Serena sat back in her chair, crossed her arms against her stomach, as her half smile never left her colored lips. "In regards to a survivor of the explosion, someone never made it to the ship that day."

"Who?"

She gave a small chuckle, "Your majesty, we both know the most powerful thing a person can possess is knowledge. And power is never _freely_ given. It might tip the scales in your favor and out of mine." His eyes narrowed. "I will tell you, but I want a trade."

"Of what?"

"Not of what, of _whom_." Serena tipped her chin higher. Aston's features darkened and were flavored menace when he smirked. "I can promise you this information will ground your fight with Fanelia and turn any allies they might have against them. Fanelia is a great military force, but against the entire world?"

The king licked his lips and leaned back, drumming his fingers on the table top. After a few minutes of consideration his eyes met with her angelic face, "Name your price, Princess."

* * *

If there was one thing not enjoyable by any measure, it was waking up with the feeling one's guts had been set on fire. Armand cracked open one of his eyes and was greeted with a blurry view of the ceiling.

If this was heaven, they were going to have water damage on this ceiling.

His eyes burned after only a few seconds, he closed them tight, and tried to make the rawness leave. Armand's mind was as fuzzy as his vision. Where was he? His stomach _hurt_ and his head was doing lazy lap in the amnesia pool because the harder he tried to think the less he could vividly remember.

There was a pounding and lightheadedness that made it hard to sit up and think properly. He _hated_ feeling like this. He didn't know where he was, he didn't see anyone, and worst of all that meant there was no one to which to complain!

Opening his mouth to speak, the only thing that exited was a crackly squeak. His blue eyes went wide as he weakly grabbed his throat, as if there was a magic button he could press to make it work.

Trying to force a word out, only a slightly longer squeak emerged.

No! What cruel fate would do this!

_My voice!_ Feeling pathetic from the truth of his voice or the pain, Armand let his head slump against the pillow, his eyes fluttered close again. He sighed and decided to search his brain for what happened to him.

Someone…attacked him.

Someone who shouldn't have been in his room.

Okay, so no one should have _technically_ been in his room. Pinching his eyes tightly, his memory groped around in the dark, having images flicker across his mental eyes.

Jill.

He remembered Jill. He had called out to the man for help.

Armand had been a few minutes behind the other knight coming in from duty. He had called Jill for help.

When the face, half painted with shadows as it had been the night of the attack, flittered across his mind, Armand lurched forward. His eyes were opened wide with disbelief. It couldn't have been! But there was no other person in the whole planet who looked just like that! Who dressed _just_ like that!

Gripping his sheet, the knight took a quick inventory of his attire and was grateful to see a deep gray pants covering himself, and he pushed himself roughly out of bed.

He couldn't let them die! His duty was always to King Van _and_ Queen Hitomi! If he didn't tell them, they could be next!

The wound seared with white hot pain as he swayed unsteadily on his feet. Pushing himself away from the bed and toward the door, he ignored the wave of throbbing which flared throughout his body, the stab wound being the eye of the hurt filled hurricane.

There was nothing more important, even the tearing feeling of his injury coming open that would stop him from trying to warn them.

His fingers barely scraped the door frame before his vision blurred and shadowed. Armand's struggles proved fruitless as his knees buckled under his weight and pitched him forward. The floor was cold and rough against his body as his warm blood started to seep from the newly opened passageway. Barely conscious, the knight mustered up his strength and in the end of his fight was only able to manage one barely audible broken word, "Hi-to-"

* * *

Hitomi's eyes would have watered, but she knew it would be pointless as she watched her husband drag another piece of armor up his arm and securely lock it in place. He had told her about this all the night before.

_"I have to find a great dragon to harvest his heart." Hitomi paled at that statement. A few rather odd thoughts went through her mind. Was it for some type of odd ritual? Was he going to eat the heart for luck? Would she have to eat it? That was sickening! "With that, I'll be able to awaken Escaflowne."_

_"Escaflowne?"_

_"The Guymelef of Fanelia."_

Van made sure he went into greater detail, but still gave her more of the story book version of reasons and whatnots behind the dragon hunt. It had been two days since their most intimate, but interrupted, moment. Why he stopped, Van never said and Hitomi figured she'd rather not know.

When she had followed him down to the armory, Van was irked but sighed when she crossed her arms and gave him the best 'don't-even-think-of-telling-me-no' look. It had worked, and she was here, watching him dress to go and fight a dragon.

No, she corrected herself, not to fight but to _kill_ a dragon.

Having not been raised during any wars, the great guymelefs were things of stories from old men. She heard her father speak in high awe about the mighty machines once, but only once and then he went into how much he could make should he get spare parts.

"Why do you go at night?" She was sitting on one of the counters where the swords were usually sharpened, with one leg crossed over the other and a hand tucked under her chin as she watched him armor up.

"Dragons are nocturnal," Van said calmly, fiddling with a tassel on one of the more flashy pieces of metal.

"Why not find their liar during the day and make it easier?" Hitomi asked it seemed more logical to her.

Van cast a glance over his protected shoulder, "Because it would not be fair to the dragon. He deserves a chance to fight for his life."

"So you risk losing your life so that a monster will have a better chance at keeping his?" She let one gold eyebrow rise up. She was sick with worry; everyone kept tossing the word 'death' around like it was a child's toy ball. Every time it was mentioned she wanted to plug her ears up and pretend that this was just some great big joke, that it was a nightmare pulled out from the darkest, most twisted recesses of her mind.

"It wouldn't be just to attack something while it slept," Van stated softly. "I'd rather kill it in a fair fight."

Of course he would, Hitomi thought sorrowfully. Van wasn't a killer, but sometimes being a protector meant taking out threats permanently. A brief thought flickered in her mind, wondering if she would ever have to step over that line in the name of protection.

Van was the kingdom's guardian, leader, and first soldier. Sadly, the Queen admitted that she was second in his life. Hadn't he said that? His greatest fear was losing his people.

"Van?" She slid off the counter and walked to him, he stiffened as she wrapped her arms around his now thickened and metal covered waist. "You will come back, won't you?" Those tears still weren't going to fall. He didn't need to worry about her being anxious, if only he would promise that he'd come back, that would be enough for her.

One hand touched hers and he let out a ragged breath, "Hito-"

"Lord Van! Hitomi!" Merle's high pitched voice caused both of the royals to jump. Hitomi had only barely let go of Van before Merle tackled him into a clinking pile of fur and metal. "He's awake!" She declared triumphantly.

"Armand?" Hitomi asked, feeling her heart jump with joy.

Van managed to fight his way up to a sitting position with a cat girl clinging to him.

"Yes! After he had some food he was able to say that _he_ was the one who moved him out of the bed and onto the floor."

"He—tripped?" Van asked, an eyebrow quirking as Merle crawled up to her feet, allowing the king to climb to a standing position again.

"For lack of better terms, yes." Merle eyed Hitomi for a moment before, sticking her nose up in the air and walking out of the room. "The healer said that he was allowed visitors."

"Go see him," Van stated, picking up his shield. "I'm sure he'll understand."

"But-"

"Please, Hitomi," Van requested and the woman sighed, nodded, and left him in the armory. After hearing her foot falls fade into nothingness, Van double checked to make sure he was alone and pulled out a small trinket box. Using his thumb he lifted up the top and inspected the interior.

The small pink jewel glowed dimly from the torches hung around the room. It had been his mother's necklace, something she always clung to when she prayed. After his father had died, she removed the necklace and smiled sadly from then on.

Snapping the lid shut, Van pushed away all the sentimental emotions knocking on his heart and focused on his task at hand. He had to save his kingdom, and the first step was to slay the dragon. He'd work on tougher matters later.

* * *

"Oh it's one hundred percent normal," the doctor insisted with a large grin. "It just means Sir Decri will have to refrain from moving around too much in the next few days if that is at all possible."

If looks could kill the good doctor would have declared himself dead and Armand would have been arrested for murder. A firm smack on the back of the knight's head changed the expression in a heartbeat.

"It's possible," Rai insisted. "Even if leather straps and ropes have to insure it, Armand won't budge."

The knight flipped his eyes heavenward. His voice loss had been temporary, much to his joy. It was just his throat had been so dried, with water and a sheer need to communicate, he was bouncing back.

"Armand!" Hitomi shouted, ran through the door, and straight to the propped up knight in his bed. In her hug she made sure not to touch his stomach.

"Not healed!" Armand was able to push out of his sore throat. It came out rough and low, Hitomi let him go more in mild shock that his voice could get that deep. Most the time the knight kept it a tad bit higher then what, she could only guess, was his true voice.

The queen felt tears of relief prick her eyes, but she pushed them back. The last thing she wanted the knight to manage to say was how she was a big baby so instead, Hitomi grabbed onto his arm and beamed at the knight.

"You pompous little priss!" Rai cried, as soon as the doctor had left. Merle had bounded off to spread the news to Sir Allen that Armand had regained consciousness.

"Ow!" Armand ripped out, rubbing his arm.

"How _dare_ you scare me like that," his mother screamed. "Have some compassion on my poor heart!"

"I didn't plan this, mother," Armand reminded her, feeling awkward at having the married Queen of Fanelia sitting on the edge of his bed and hugging his arm to her. Rai's eyes switched from a worried anger to a curious glance before deciding to stick to the anger.

"Don't raise your voice to me, boy," she warned.

"I can barely raise my hand, much less my voice." Several words flittered through his mind but this _was_ his mother after all.

"Good to see you among the living," came a new voice and Merle popped into the room, followed by the tall blonde frame of Sir Allen.

"What do I owe this honor?" Armand asked, his voice giving away his suspicion. He wasn't too stupid as to know why the Asturian knight was in Fanelia.

"I come as a friend," Allen stated, holding up his hand in truce, "concerned about a friend."

"I have to get dinner started." Rai declared, but not before she slapped Armand's foot gently. "You move and I will personally castrate you with my worst kitchen knife."

"I'm sorry this happened." Allen said, sitting down in one of the few chairs on the side of the room. He studied the knight and Queen, although he had no room to judge, it was still odd that they seemed so—chummy. "Do you know who it was?" Allen asked, not feeling like making small talk.

"It was Jill," Merle answered smartly.

"What?" Armand asked, his groggy daze making it hard for him to grasp onto words, but something sounded wrong.

"Many people think it was Jill who attacked you and put the explosives into the Asturian ship," Hitomi explained clearly. "But he says he didn't do it-

"_Wait_," Armand barked, tried to sit up, but when his gut protested, he slumped back down on his pillow. Hitomi was immediately fluffing the pillow and worrying over him.

"You shouldn't do that, it's bad for your stomach."

"So was the knife, but that didn't stop it from happening." Armand bit out, shooing Hitomi away from him.

"Jill didn't attack me," Armand stated again. "Why would he?"

"Jealousy?" Allen piped in, digesting this new information. Van hadn't offered any suspects, but it seemed the King was holding back. "It's likely."

"You were there? Could have used your help if you were," Armand shot back smartly, eyeing the other knight. Allen's face went neutral. "I know who attacked me; I was too shocked to do anything to protect myself."

"Then who was it?"

The answer made the entire group go stock still.

Allen was the first to recover. "Find your King; I have to get back to Asturia."


	34. Hunter

**Chapter 34**

* * *

"Where is Van?" Hitomi demanded, grabbing the nearest guard at the inner most gate and turning him around. "Where is the _King_?" Her face was a deep pink from running from Armand's room to find Van. She searched the armory, but it had been empty, instead of running around the palace blindly, she sought out the few people who would know for sure whether he had gone or not.

"He's already out there," the guard replied, in a stunned state at seeing the distraught Queen behind him.

Peering over the city, she spotted a lone light moving slowly toward the forest. He must have set out as quickly as she left the armory! There would be no catching him before he entered the forest and if he harvested the heart, it would be a proclamation Fanelia accepted they were at war.

Biting her lip, a thousand things raced through her mind. Licking her lips, she turned to the guard and with her most authoritative voice she lifted her chin.

"Get me a horse," Hitomi demanded. "I want it ready in half an hour and waiting for me by gates."

"Y-yes, your majesty!" The guard hared away from her, down the steps, and Hitomi let out the deep breath she'd been holding while making that command. She couldn't stop him now, but she'd follow him in the woods. Maybe she'd be able to talk him out of it there.

* * *

"Get the anchors up, we need to leave _now,_" Allen shouted as soon as he found his crew. They had been relaxing, drinking, and laughing without a care in the world. When their leader came thundering in, most of them either choked on or spit out their drinks and scrambled to their feet.

"What's the hurry?" One of them asked, not disobeying orders, but curious as to why they were suddenly on fire about leaving.

"We have to get back to Palas," Allen stated grimly.

"Any particular reason why so quickly?"

"Yes," was the only answer they received. Allen's blue eyes flickered with an inner war. He should have known something like this would appear. Times had been too peaceful, the countries too quiet, and too content with their ways of life.

One of them would eventually rise up and desire to bathe in blood.

Fanelian blood it would seem.

Gods, why didn't anyone see this coming?

"How long will it take to get to Palas going top speed?"

"A day…nonstop," Gaddus laughed nervously and added an awkward grin. "But that would tax the ship to her limits."

"I don't care. We can rebuild ships." _Countries, _Allen thought darkly,_ are irreplaceable. _

* * *

"We simply _can't_ allow this!" The councilman insisted. Hitomi screwed her face into her fiercest expression she could. Apparently one of the guards had run to the council to attempt to stop her, but they still had the horse ready for her.

"I will do this," Hitomi said with a strong voice though she felt like gel on the inside. Standing up to these powerful men was terrifying. Yes, she was above them on the 'power' ladder, but she only ever had to stand up to Van. Van was king, but also her husband. She saw him at his worst, so it was harder for him to intimidate her into compliance.

"King Van would not approve of this; he has to do this task _alone_," The older man piped up, stepping forward. Merle came bounding up to the gate to inspect the commotion.

_Darn_.

Hitomi's mind reached around in her past, trying to come up with some excuse or loophole in this rule. Reaching to her left hand, she began to twist her gold band on her ring finger. Looking down at the simple ring, her eyes flashed with realization. With a confident smirk, the Queen met the councilman's eyes.

"The King and I are one, as it was stated in our vows. Isn't this true?"

The man opened his mouth to protest, but only a broken syllable escaped. He pierced his lips together and gave her a dangerous look. This was a man who, clearly, didn't like to be out done by a female.

"I still say that this is an ill conceived idea."

"Would you rather go?" Hitomi dared, offering the man the reigns of the horse.

The man only swallowed thickly, "No."

"Then I will." She was just about to mount when another, furrier obstacle got in her way.

"Hitomi!" Merle cried, grabbing the woman's dress. "You can't go!" The neko wrapped her arms around the woman's waist, and buried her face into her back. "You can't go! Lord Van won't be happy!"

Smiling down at the cat girl, Hitomi removed her arms from her waist. "It'll be fine. Everything will be better this way. I need you to watch over Armand."

"But!" Merle went to protest, but was silenced with a pat on the head and watched helplessly as the Queen mounted her animal. After ordering the gates to open, she soon disappeared into the city. Merle felt heart sick.

There was a growling curse from behind her that caused the neko to jump, "They are two sides of the same coin."

Merle twisted her face into an annoyed expression. "Then we should be _thankful_ that it's such a good and strong one!" Though her words and stance were brave, her heart was still plagued with doubt.

* * *

Van hadn't indulged in tromping through the woods at night since Folken dared him to and he ended up covered in dragon droppings. Folken was punished and their mother made sure the punishment was to cleanup Van from his disgusting state.

It would be a touching memory, in a very uniquely disturbing way, if he hadn't been stalking through the woods seeking out a man-eating creature that showed no remorse or hesitation at killing.

Closing his eyes and breathing deep, he tried to clear his mind. There was no room for error in this mission. Opening his eyes, Van tightened his hold on the hilt of the sword. The entire city knew what he was out in the woods doing, but he had to do it alone. If he came back successful they would celebrate.

Huffing, he dismounted. The horse would spoke easily and he didn't feel like being thrown from its back, especially in a heavily wooded area. Petting its neck, the creature already began to neigh and show signs of anxiety by the eerie silence that settle in the forest like a heavy fog.

His ancestors decided to build the city hugging this dragon infested forest because no invaders would dare attempt a night attack when the beasts were awake and in daylight, the flat fields in front of the city gates made a sneak attack impossible.

A perfect set up, except they created situations like this.

With a firm slap on its back side, the horse wasted no time in swinging its body around and running for all it was worth back to its home. Van sighed as the horse was swallowed by the blackness.

Now he was completely alone.

Shifting his focus to the task at hand, Van set out into the forest, off the carved out trail.

After all, what creature stayed to a path besides humans?

* * *

Dilandau dipped the tip of his finger into the wine and flicked off the excess. Slowly he began to trace the lip of his wine flute. He _hated_ waiting.

"I want to fight," he seethed darkly. "I'm sick of waiting around for something to happen."

"Stay calm," Folken instructed. "I don't need you acting out before it is time. We tried it your way and it ended bitterly, but with no true results."

The light haired man's eyes flickered with anger, within a heartbeat he was to his feet, wine glass crushed in his hand. "That's not good enough!" His lips were curled down, as were his eyebrows. To the foot soldiers, Dilandau's face would mean instant death or slow, painful torture.

To Folken it was just a face of a spoiled child be denied a toy.

"By this time, Van will be hunting," Folken explained calmly. "Doubtless he will succeed against the threats that he is expecting."

Dilandau flipped his eyes heavenward, the blue haired Fanelian loved to be vague; proof that the man was a diplomat born and bred. "What's the _point_?"

"The point is that Van will very soon be a martyr causing the entire kingdom to be in uproar and hungry for war." Folken's lips itched into a smirk. "This is what we want. Angry people are easy to control, and masses of angry people will be our willing mob."

"And who will they be mad at?"

Folken leaned back and smirked.

A light rap on the door and both men turned toward the door as a timid maid entered, but didn't raise her head. "The king will see you now, Lord Dilandau."

"Do as I have said and he will be yours."

Dilandau grinned madly, following the maid out of the room.

* * *

_Why had she thought this was such a smart idea?_

She had been going full gallop as she went through the city and eased into a trot as she left the lit streets. In her haste, Hitomi realized she didn't even have a torch. The animal beneath her seemed just as tense as it slowly edged into the forest, following a path it must have known well.

Hitomi felt her heart pick up when she heard something approach, a running, heavy sounding something. Maybe it was a dragon?

She felt the panic rise in her body. Without warning, her horse reared on its hind legs, throwing her off of it and harshly to the ground. Hitomi winced as she tried to sit up, but found the blackness dizzying. When her vision cleared, she screamed, and rolled over to the side of the road as fast as possible.

Two great horses thundered by her, both of them whining and frantic in their departure. Gingerly, she climbed to her feet, leaned on a tree for support, and tried to get her head from swimming. One horse was hers, but whose was the other?

Van's? Was she already too late?

Fear clamped on her heart, as she clambered to a standing position on shaky legs. Hitomi felt the chill of the night bite into her arms.

"Fine," she muttered to herself, not liking the deep quiet in the woods. "I can do this without a horse." She straightened her collar and then rolled her eyes. It was Armand's constant pestering that she had the need to keep her buttons and collars straight.

She willed her legs to move, but they almost buckled. After all the stories about the nasty dragons and other creatures of the night (and day) bumping around, drooling, and wide eyed for any weakling like herself to snack on it was hard to fight the fear pumping through her veins.

Shaking her head, she tried to make those thoughts leave. Van! Van was her focus. After Armand's confession of who, they were fearful the traitor might not have gone too far from the castle. Taking a deep breath, she took one step, then stopped, stepped in another direction, and stopped again.

Which way did Van go?

Hitomi decided to head the way the horse had come from, either she was going to find Van or what was left of him.

_Think positive_! She scolded herself, she would find Van! Even if it was a thick forest, in the dead of night with numerous dragons—her stomach turned violently as she began on the path.

* * *

Merle dragged her tail, quite literally, back down to the knights' quarters. When she reached the room Armand was currently situated in, she hesitated. How could she possibly tell him Hitomi took off like a woman possessed after Van to tell him not to hunt? Well, in actuality it wasn't _not _to hunt but that he might be one of the hunted.

Shaking her head, the girl steadied her nerves and walked into the room.

"Armand?" Merle's appearance made the knight hike an eyebrow up instantly.

"What is it?" He questioned, suspicious already.

"Hitomi's gone," she replied with a happy tone that didn't fool anyone for a moment as not being completely faked. "She left to find Lord Van."

Without missing a beat, the knight stared up the ceiling and demanded, "Take me now! If there be a single merciful bone in your body, just take me now!"

Merle rolled her eyes, "You aren't helping. She left and went into the woods. What if Lord Van comes back before she does?"

"Then I guess you should've stopped her." He moved, allowing his legs to drape over the side of his bed.

"I did my best! She's stubborn! She wouldn't listen," Merle pointed out, crossing her arms.

"Did you break her legs?" He snapped, wobbling on his feet.

"No!" Merle exclaimed, almost appalled at the suggestion.

"Then I don't think you really _tried_."

"You shouldn't be out of bed!" Merle reprimanded, trying to move him back to the mattress. He could rant and rave, as long as he didn't hurt himself further and bring the wrath of Rai on her head.

"And the Queen shouldn't be running around screaming in a dragon infested forest!"

"You can't go out there in your condition. Your mother would kill you before you got a horse saddled!"

"I'm not going to go after _her_; I'm getting a head start on _him_. Once he finds out that Queen Hitomi took off after him, he's going to come and _kill_ me."

"What's the worst that can happen?" Merle asked, checking out her claws in a bored fashion.

"The _worst_ or the most _likely_?" Armand's voice shaded several colors. "Who put this fool idea in her head anyway?"

"Sir Allen," Merle answered, "But I don't think he meant for her to go _out_ after him."

* * *

"Your majesty," Dilandau almost purred out the greeting as he gave a slight bow to Coron. The king felt fear seep into his very bones, and the general seemed to notice it as he gave a little grin. "I see you are in good health." His grin grew, "For now."

"Yes. I was -surprised you should come and visit." Coron tried to not let nervousness show.

That damned grin grew again, "Visit is such a friendly term, and both of us know that me being here isn't 'nice' news."

Coron held his breath, slowly nodded, and sank into one of the high back chairs in the library. Dilandau followed suit and sat across from the deepening distraught king.

"What do you want?"

"That's more like it," the man traced the side of his face, thinking. "I want you to allow us free reign over your country for traveling purposes. I'm sure you are aware there is a war coming and I intend to capitalize on it."

"I won't ally my country with likes of you for the purpose of unfounded war." Coron spoke quickly, rather amazed by his voice for coming out stronger than he felt. If he was an open highway to the Zaibach troops, that meant anyone opposed to Zaibach would be tempted to destroy Slena in order to weaken the stronger army.

"I'm not asking you to become allies," Dilandau chuckled darkly. "There's nothing that Slena has to offer that is useful in the ways of war except its central location. Either you are going to allow us passage or Slena will be saturated in blood." Dilandau's face melted from that grin into a deathly serious grimace and dead eyes.

"You're not serious," Coron's face had paled considerably; he gripped the sides of his chair to keep his hands from visibly shaking.

"Your country could go up in an unprecedented fire of flames and screams," he stood quickly, not giving Coron a seconds notice before the fair haired man was nose to nose with him. "I _always_ get what I want. Am I understood?"


	35. Forest Night

**Chapter 35**

* * *

Van blindly groped around the forest without so much as a single scale or tree lizard. It was cold and like all reptiles, the dragons were probably curled up deeply in their caves, waiting for spring to come to wake up and eat.

They were likely nestled in the cliffs that towered above the largest river in Fanelia. Because of the active water, the cliffs managed to stay in a state of rock and mud even at the highest points. It was treacherous during daylight; Van couldn't even fathom what it would be like at the dead of night when the ice had kissed them.

Rolling his shoulder unconsciously, there were always unseen bonuses and very steep 'up sides' to his curse. One of them would be when he fell off a building or cliff he could always spread his 'curse', catch himself, and terrify everyone around him.

He flipped his eyes heavenward. The last thing he needed to worry about was what everyone may or may not think about him!

_Crunch._

Van's ears perked up at the noise. He hadn't moved and yet there was a distinct noise.

It wasn't a _thud_, as would be expected from a large beast; it was almost as if someone was trying to conceal their presence. A mistake?

The King slowly stood up, his armor not making the slightest noise as he waited for the other presence to make itself known. He stretched his hearing as far as it could and waited.

* * *

"How bad could it really be?" Rai tried to be encouraging and for all her efforts, she got a stern blue eyed glare. She crossed her arms across her chest and looked pointedly at the man. "Well?"

"It's not the place to build a summer home, that's for sure," Armand griped.

"But the Lord Van is used to perilous activities," Merle flicked her fingers, trying to get something off her claw. She glared at Armand.

"_In_ the palace maybe. May I remind you the king has _never_ actually faced off with an opponent to the death?" Armand wasn't happy, and when Armand wasn't happy he made many of the people around him want to physically injure him. The pillow Rai was fluffing, for instance, just begged to be taken from underneath his head and hit him over the head with it.

"Talking like a guilty man," Rai's words were solemn; she shook herself and plastered a smile across her face. "But don't worry about the king. It's not like you can go run out there and do anything for them now."

"Thank you for that cheerful reminder."

* * *

Hitomi wanted to run, but the point of running was lost now. With it being dark, her not knowing the way and the probable mysterious assassin lurking around, there was no guarantee she wouldn't run into a tree or off a cliff.

There was only a split second of fear before a figure slammed her into the ground.

Sliding against the twines and brush, Hitomi felt her arms being scrapped and bruised. With a grunt, both bodies came to a halt. Whoever it was had her arms pinned at the shoulder and was straddling her waist. A pretty amazing feat since the person had leapt onto her.

She hissed in pain as she tried to move, but found the one on top of her was too heavy to do much more than grunt in effort.

"Let me go!" She screamed, as loud as her voice could manage. The figure's hold slackened, which meant one thing: _attack!_ As she was balling her hand into a fist, the figure spoke.

"Hitomi?" Van's voice filled her ears, and her eyes tried to focus. "What in the nine pits are you doing out here?" His voice was directly above her, as he moved his hands to either side of her head and off her shoulders.

"Van!" Hitomi caught him completely off guard when she wrapped her arms around his neck and embraced him tightly. "Van! I was so worried about you!"

Van made a noise of surprise as she clung to him. After a few seconds, she released him and smiled. Having been out in the woods longer and due to certain 'gifts' he was able to adjust to the darkness better than Hitomi.

"What are you doing here?" Van repeated.

"I'll tell you, but first, could you get off of me?" She asked, her voice squeaking in the middle. Van was thankful for the shadows as he turned a brilliant red realizing he was straddling his wife still.

"S-sorry," He said, falling to the side quickly and rolling to his feet in one smooth motion. Offering her a hand, she accepted, and was instantly hoisted up. His grip tightened on her hand.

"You shouldn't be here," he reprimanded. "It's dangerous."

"More than you know," she started, "I was so worried about what would happen to you."

"That's why you're out here? Because you were _worried_?" He sounded almost incredulous at her confession; his annoyance was feeding into a small river of anger. His anger was not because she worried, but because she put herself in danger for him. Van knew his own skills and abilities and also knew their limits. He could easily fight and win against a dragon, he had been trained enough to be this sure.

"No. Yes. I mean," Hitomi shook her head, and sighed. "Armand woke up; he told us who attacked him. Allen suggested that I come out and tell you."

Van heaved a sigh, "Why couldn't this wait?" He was trying his best not to be extremely upset when he spoke to her, but it wasn't working all too well. There was nowhere to leave her; he couldn't just abandon her out here.

"Let me explain first," Hitomi huffed, and Van crossed his arms, glaring. "We were afraid that the person who tried to kill Armand was out here with you! I came to warn you about the possible assassin! Allen and Armand were worried about you!"

He remained silent for a moment before shaking his head, "The only other person out here is _you._" Van snapped.

To say he was just irked was like saying the forest was just a tree. She ruined his hunt and all because of the Asturian knight! He'd have to go back to the capital, empty handed and full of pathetic explanations.

"I was just trying to _help_," Hitomi grumbled and Van huffed.

The hairs on the back of his neck pricked as a thought came to him suddenly. That was right, when he found Hitomi, he forgot about the noise. It had come from a different direction, the only reason he lunged at her was because he saw a figure.

Maybe there was someone else out here with them?

Van subtly searched the darkness with his eyes; he couldn't let Hitomi know she might be right. First, because she might get even more jumpy than she already was and secondly, because then she'd have reason to gloat.

* * *

"You want me to _what_?" Mena questioned, having just put their daughter to bed for the night. As soon as she had reached their bedroom, Coron had impatiently come through the doors with his eyes almost wild. What he said made her believe he had gone mad. "Why would I ever even consider this?"

"It _is_ a lot to ask, but I still have to insist," Coron pleaded, his eyes darting around the room as if waiting to see one of the elusive ears that people always said the walls had. "After tonight, it won't be safe," he muttered under his breath and quickly went to one of their wardrobes, opened it, he removed a heavy trunk, and threw back the lid. "Fill it with only the things you need."

"Coron, calm down," Mena implored, "You're too upset right now." She placed a hand on his shoulder. In a flash, he had turned and grabbed her wrists pulling her close to him.

"You _have_ to leave, Mena," Coron repeated. "You and our daughter have to get clear of Slena borders by tonight."

She studied her husband's wide, begging eyes for a moment before breathing out, "You're serious."

"Deadly, as are they. I can't have you stay here. I can't have either of you stay here. It's too dangerous," Coron stressed. "You loved me enough to follow me, love me enough to leave me as well," his voice was desperate and full of fear.

Mena's eyebrows crashed together, "Is this because of your 'guests'?"

"They are not guests. They aren't friends," he clarified. "They came here to threaten me into allowing them to make a path to some of my allies." Coron released her, covered his face with his hands as he shook his head from side to side. "I never thought it would come to this."

"I-I guess I can go somewhere. I think it would be fine if I-"

"NO!" Coron interjected. "You can't tell me. I don't want to know in case they try to get to you."

Mena nodded and began to put her things into the trunk. Coron didn't stay in the room long after and the woman was thankful. Her hands began to shake as the situation started to sink in. Zaibach had been secluded for almost fifteen years and then all of a sudden the military leaders came around demanding things? It was an ominous monster in the closet.

She still had to pack for the baby. Coron said it wasn't safe for them to be in the country. There was only one course of action left to take.

Leave and quickly, just as he had requested, but she was going to deviate from his plan in one important matter.

* * *

"You can't go back empty handed," Hitomi whispered harshly. As soon as Van made sure that they were alone in the clearing he announced he was going to take her back to the city. She had been on a protest ever since. "What would they think?"

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you came out here," Van snipped. "I can't have you out here, something might happen." He wasn't about to let his concern for her well being be the reason he failed. In the palace she would be safe, surrounded by the guards and knights, not out here in the open with him and some phantom. Oh, and of course the dragons and other critters with fangs and carnivorous appetites.

She made a noise that sounded like the child of a growl and a scream which caught Van's attention. Glancing over his shoulder, he sighed in frustration noticing she stopped.

"I-I can't believe you sometimes," she strangled out of her throat. "I came here to help, to warn you about a possible assassination attempt and this is how you thank me?"

Thankfully, Van noted, she wasn't going to turn into a waterfall, but more or less a volcano. Storming back in her direction he made direct eye contact, but didn't touch her.

"You aren't thinking like a Queen. Say that someone is out here to kill me, you come out here to warn me, and then they have taken _both_ the King and Queen away from Fanelia which leaves it in the conquers' hands or corrupt royals desperately seeking power. Escaflowne would then be useless since it is tied to _my_ blood, as with every king of Fanelia."

"I was more concerned for you than for the what-ifs," Hitomi tried to defend herself, her anger weakening.

"I appreciate the sentiments, but you have to remember you are _Queen_ and not able to act out on whims. The country needs you if anything happens to me." Van straightened up and turned away. As a second thought he turned back to her, "You never identified Armand's attacker."

Hitomi's attention was searching the trees.

"Hitomi?"

"Did you hear something?" Hitomi questioned. "It sounded like something…"

"I haven't-" Van started only to be cut short as his eyes flew open wide in understanding.

The land beneath them groaned a few seconds of warning before a collection of snaps and cracks made the couple aware of the precarious ground they stood on. Then, before Hitomi could scream and Van jump, the forest disappeared from under them and both yelped.

Somehow, Van caught the girl by the wrist, pulled her to him, and managed to flip them so he was on the bottom.

They landed hard only a few seconds later with a groan and sound _thud_.

Hitomi was the first to recover not having suffered the worst of the rough landing. She groaned as she rolled off of him, and sat up. After her head cleared, Hitomi leaned over her now moaning husband.

"V-Van, are you okay," she asked, touching his face tenderly.

His garnet eyes opened, and then squeezed shut as he began the process of sitting up.

"I would be better if I hadn't landed on my armor," he admitted. Truth be told, had they not hit the ground when they did, he was ready to call up his curse in order save them. Everything might have been lost if he had to show her his family secret.

"Are you all right?"

There was silence as Hitomi wasn't paying him the slightest bit of attention.

Her green eyes were wide and locked on something behind him. Casting a glance to see what it was that had her so interested, he saw green-blue scales shimmer faintly as the great beast coiled tighter into itself.

"Is-is-is-" Hitomi's voice was broken as she forced her question to leave her lips. "A dragon?"

"Yes," Van replied, smoothly flipped himself into a squatting position, his hand on his sword as he ready himself for anything the acid spitting lizard might try. "Keep still."

"S-sure."

His eyes narrowed, slowly studying the setting. The beast only moved to make its body more compact. There was a good sized pile of leaves around the scale covered creature, and the heat it radiated was above normal for the cold months. Most importantly, it knew they were there and made no movement to protect itself. It only could be one thing.

"It's a female."

"How can you tell?" Hitomi questioned in a small voice. "Is she wearing a bow?"

If it wasn't such a deadly beast they were talking about, Van would have snorted. What a ridiculous question.

"No. I know because she isn't moving," he started, his voice low. "She's protecting her nest."

"Then why isn't she attacking us?" Hitomi licked her suddenly dry lips.

"Because she won't exchange a killing blow for her eggs," Van's looked up, eyeing the hole they had fallen through. It was about twelve feet high, with no walls around the opening. Getting out of here was going to be tricky. The female was most likely blocking the only other exit, but that wasn't the only problem.

"So anyone could hurt her while she's nesting? That seems almost cruel."

"She has a mate," Van whispered, stretching his hearing as far as he could for any sounds of the male. "He protects her and hunts."

"Where is he then?"

"Probably on the other side, this cave's mouth is most likely on the cliffs." Van's analytical and tactical mind went to work, weighing the pros and the cons against trying to leave through the hole or through the mouth. If the female's mate was at the mouth, he was probably on his way to see what the noise had been. If he was out hunting then Van could have a better chance of collecting the much needed heart in order to awaken Escaflowne. It _was_ cruel to leave the female with no protector or way to get food, but his people were more important. Perhaps she would survive the month or so of what was left of the cold weather months.

If not, her young would survive without a question.

"Let's go," Van reached out, grabbed Hitomi's wrist, and forced both of them to their feet. Hitomi's breath was shaky as Van drew them closer to the great reptile. The beast clicked its tongue, as if it was about to spit it's acid, but all it did was threaten the task.

Her breath hitched in her throat as the dragon hissed in her protest to their proximity.

"It's okay. She won't hurt you," Van reassured, as he tugged her along. After they were clear, the ebony haired man turned and with a half smile said, "See? No harm done."

She went pale in a heartbeat as her eyes widened in shock. Hitomi's mental eye flashed with an image of a rather nasty looking dragon slamming the king with its body.

"Van watch out!" She screamed to the illusion, looking over her husband's shoulder. Twisting around, Van was able to push her out of the way, while throwing himself to the ground an instant before the male dragon would have crushed the King's body between his own and the muddy stone wall.

"Get next to the female!" Van commanded, as he rolled to his feet swiftly. The male was not happy as it clicked and hissed, threatening to rip the king from limb to limb in its own primal way. Blindly, Hitomi stumbled backward until she felt warm, leathery surface that happened to be breathing.

The scales felt like they almost rippled under her touch, regardless of her own dangerous position, the queen didn't take her eyes off the king. The male dragon was, for lack of better words, pissed. Its tail swung around its head and straight down, next to Van's feet. The ground cracked and bits of rock flew up.

Van grunted and threw himself to the side, avoiding the brunt of the dragon's wrath. It screamed in rage and lunged at the king with its razor sharp teeth bared. Growling, he rolled away to safety, flipped off his back and to his feet. The man charged, his sword having been drawn a long time ago.

The dragon seemed to be insulted by this obvious attack and spun around, allowing his tail to give a full arc, making the man jump to miss its killing blow. When he landed, the ground proved uneven as his foot slipped and gave a nasty twist. The king hissed in pain but shook it off as the beast tried to take another swipe at him.

A flash of a vision made the queen silent, a picture of its tail coming down like a snake bite as Van was distracted with its teeth and claws.

"Van!" she screamed, "Behind you!"

* * *

"As promised," purred a smooth, feminine voice, "We have fulfilled our part of the bargain."

King Aston studied the two figures in his doorway and smiled warmly.

"As I see," he pushed away from the table, dabbed the ends of his mouth with his napkin before dropping it over his plate. "I want a doctor's check over before I seal the deal. You understand of course."

The female narrowed her eyes and flicked her tail, "Of course, but I won't leave until I can bring good news to the Princess."

"Understandable," Aston cleared his throat and eyed the second, silent figure that refused to make eye contact. "If this is a fake, you picked a very convincing actor."

The cat woman only smiled, internally laughing at a private joke. "We in Zaibach never do anything half heartedly."

"Or without your own agenda," Aston remarked, his eyes never leaving the neko's companion.

The woman gave a slight bow, "We will return for your half of the bargain. I must advise you not to take this lightly; any trickery on your part will not be tolerated."


	36. All We Ever Find

**Chapter 36**

* * *

It was over.

Sweat dripped from his scratched, dirt-covered face as he swayed on his feet.

Van's breathing was labored as his sword tip touched the stony ground. The beast's blood was evaporating, filling the cave with a gut turning stench. All flesh, bone, and blood turned into a smoldering pile of dust before his eyes. Dragons who died naturally kept their remains, but those who were 'harvested' evaporated in order to hide their shame or so the children's stories told.

On shaking legs, Hitomi made her way to him and with a very gentle hand, touched his shoulder. Van's eyes drifted over to her pale face and trembling lips.

"A-are you okay?"

"Yes," Van gave a small, forced smile. "We need to get out of here." Sheathing his sword, he offered her a hand. To his surprise, she bypassed his hand, and wrapped her arms around him gingerly so as not to hurt him.

Van's eyes snapped wide then closed as he returned her light embrace.

"That was-" Hitomi closed her eyes and tightened her arms around him.

"Thanks," Van managed to get out in a tired voice.

"Huh?" She pulled away, staring up at him.

"You helped me," Van gave a very weak smile, "Thank you."

"You shouldn't thank me! You're the one who saved me from being dragon dinner!"

"It wouldn't have hurt you if you'd have stayed by its mate," Van shrugged. In one hand, he held the pink-purple heart and in the other he held his upper arm where the creature had slammed him into the cave wall. "He wouldn't have chanced hurting her."

Tucking her shoulder under his good arm, she wrapped one arm around his back and placed the other on his chest to stabilize him. Van didn't push her away or give any acknowledgement of her aid; she supposed this was a good thing.

"This is going to be a long trip back, you realize." Hitomi tried to give a smile, but her fatigue set in and her attention was drawn, instead, to focusing on their journey back.

"Yes," Van was already going through the _how_ of getting from the mouth of the cave, but didn't think it was important enough to mention it to her at this moment. They might not be that far down now, but it was still going to require them to climb. He was hurt and she wasn't 'built' for rock climbing.

They walked together in silence, until Hitomi slowly came to a stop.

"Where's the breeze coming from? Are we almost there?"

"Yes. The mouth is on the cliff."

"A _cliff_?" Hitomi echoed, moving forward again. "How are we going to get up from a cliff?"

"I'm working on that."

She huffed, but didn't say anything further.

After minutes of walking, the slight breeze became stronger. Van said it meant they were close to the mouth; he failed to mention that he hadn't figured out what to do after that.

He was ready to wince when she opened her mouth, doubtlessly to ask the question, but something else echoed down the cave's throat. Hitomi's head lifted slightly as a low, mewing cry resonated from far behind them. It sounded almost like a long drawn out 'no'.

"What's that?"

It wasn't any real word. It sounded like the sobs and wails of a broken heart resonating from a shattered spirit.

"His mate," Van admitted. His voice apathetic as he stared down at the crystal heart in his hand. "She's crying for him."

"She's crying?" Hitomi was surprised. "They can _cry_?"

"Dragons are of higher intelligence than most creatures," Van explained, "They mate for life. Her mate is dead, she knows this."

Guilt sponged on his heart. A chilling thought ran through him as he considered that probably the only other creature to cry over their mate would be a human. What if he hadn't survived? Would Hitomi cried like that? Would he if she had been taken?

His heart clenched at the thought and that was enough to prompt him to think about other things.

As they exited the cave, Hitomi gave a yelp of surprise as a wind traveling up from the river whipped her skirt up to her waist. With her free hand, she quickly tried to pull her skirt down while her face turned red.

Van's attention was elsewhere as he studied the steep cliff. They weren't as far down as he feared, about twenty to thirty feet. The dragons must've been new mates; most of the older pairs took residence further down the cliffs to avoid humans during hibernation.

Gently pushing off Hitomi's hand, Van walked, with a slight limp, over to the other side and tested the strength of the rocks.

Hitomi peeked down the cliff, and felt her head spin along with her stomach. _That _was a _long_ way to fall. She shivered and clung to the cave wall for support and dared to peer over the side again.

Van put more weight on the rocks and they instantly crumbled apart. It was more mud than rocks. "They can't support much weight-"

The shrill scream jerked the king around in surprise; all he saw was the blonde falling over the side—the wall had given out under her weight.

"_Hitomi!" _Van screamed out her name, watching as the girl was thrown from the cliff side.

There hadn't been a thought or a heartbeat that gave his mind time to react; he just acted out on his instinct. Launching himself off the cave's small outcrop, he allowed his heavier weight to pull him toward the falling body, the air rushed past his face as he stretched out his hands for her.

It couldn't end like this!

Reaching out as far as he could, he was able to grasp her wrist and within another breath, he closed his eyes and pulled her toward him. Closing his eyes, the King willed his family curse to come. A scream of pain was muffled behind clenched teeth as white feathered wings pushed free from his back, spread wide, and instantly slowed their descent.

His body protested with aches and promises of cramps as he locked his hold on the frail girl and used the strong winds to his advantage. With the cliff winds, he was able to surpass the troublesome cave and swiftly up into the dark blue sky.

Hitomi's eyes fluttered open momentarily, she felt weightless, as if she was in a dream. As the pain started to seep into her awareness all over again, she wondered if this was another one of her visions. Was this a new part of them? To feel pain?

What kind of person in real life would have such strong arms and beautiful unearthly wings spanning the sky?

* * *

"And if anything goes wrong?" Serena questioned, fingering the design of the tiara sitting on her lap.

"Nothing will go wrong," Folken reassured. "Every piece is in place; all that is left is for the wheel to be put in motion."

"I'm not going to believe that until I get what I want and after so long, my patience is growing increasingly thin." The princess narrowed her light blue eyes at the blue haired man who didn't flinch under her icy stare.

"Coron has already agreed to let us use his lands to pass to the other countries."

"Like Fanelia?" Serena's smile was that of a lioness after a kill. "Doesn't it bother you in the least that we are going to lay waste to your precious home country?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, but quickly returned to their relaxed expression.

"Of course not. If I cared I wouldn't have left in the first place. Isn't that what prompted you into this? People _leaving_ you?"

She growled under her breath.

* * *

After the King and Queen came staggering back through the city gates the next morning, there were cheers. When Van held up the pink crystallized dragon heart, the shouts were deafening. Seeing the royal couple was a bit worse for wear, the guards herded them into the castle and to the healers' care immediately.

Neither had suffered any severe injury that wouldn't heal with a few days of bed rest, mostly just cuts and bruises. Upon hearing this, Van made an announcement that was to be spread throughout the city that it would be after those few days, he'd leave to fight.

The city was thrust into a celebration that their king was well and wasn't going to back down. Hitomi wasn't so excited. When she questioned Van about how she didn't die from falling from the cliff, he would cough and say he grabbed her before she completely plummeted. It didn't make lot of sense to her, but knowing he wouldn't say anything else until he chose to, she dropped it.

"You give aggravating a _whole_ new definition!" Armand snapped, nearly seething. "You could have been killed!" He plucked his pillow from behind him and threw it at her in his fit. "Have some consideration for my poor nerves! Not to mention my exceedingly fragile neck and quickly dissolving career!" He leaned back and jerked his head to the side, "You are _so_ selfish."

"I know I could have been hurt," Hitomi admitted, deciding to ignore his bitter little statements.

She was extremely tired after chasing Van around and then the battle with the male beast that ensued. It took nearly half a day for the couple to struggle back, and when they did, the councilmen were proclaiming thanks to gods between discussing battle plans and calling for healers.

"And still you went," Armand pointed out in a shallow tone and huffed, crossing his arms. "Women are so _thick_ sometimes."

"Are you implying I'm dumb?" Hitomi asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I'm not _implying_ anything. I was hoping I was saying it _flat out_."

His pillow went sailing back to him and smacked him in the face.

* * *

"Lord Van!" Merle purred happily, clutching to his upper arm. "You made it back! I'm _so_ happy!"

Van patted her hand softly and gave her a ghost of a smile, "Yes."

Merle tipped her head in confusion as he stood up, walked over to the windows, and sat down on the window sill. Her eyes narrowed as she blew a couple of stray hairs from her face.

"What happened?"

"I had to show her."

Her tail swished impatiently, "Showed her what?"

"My wings."

The swishing tail stuck straight out from her body,"You-you-_didn't_."

"I had to, she would've died." Those words sounded odd and haunted. _Died_, she could have _died_ and that thought bothered him more than he thought possible.

"And," Merle began, perching on the window sill next to him. "What did she say?"

"I don't think she remembers. It's possible she hit her head before I caught her on some of the falling debris or on the cliff side."

"Well at least you don't have to worry about _that_ then," Merle's tail began its to-and-fro rhythm as she tapped the end of her clawed finger on her cheek. "So why worry about it?"

"Because," he brought one leg up, allowing the other one to dangle from the edge of the ledge. Wrapping one arm around his bent leg, he ran his fingers through his dark hair with the other. "I was hoping she would see it that way."

Merle's eyes almost popped out of her head as she lost her balance due to the shock.

"You _what_! Why! You know what happened to you last time!" The neko protested in a voice that was something between anger and dread.

Van bowed his head and stared at his lap. Serena had asked to know his most personal secret and he, like a true fool, showed her and she hated him for it. He had spread his wings before her and it only took a few seconds for wonder to shade into disgust and love to plummet to hate.

"I know but -I still want her to know," Van whispered. "I _want_ her to know."

Fear took on a new meaning as it swarmed over his heart. The fear of rejection and losing something so precious to him that he couldn't even think about what to call the emotion for dread of never being able to feel it again.

* * *

"King Aston!" Allen addressed the royalty, bowing low, and then standing up quickly. He had come straight from Fanelia, direct from his ship to warn the King there was misery forming above their heads, but no one knew to look up.

"Guards!" King Aston bellowed, causing Allen to step backward. The king's thick finger was pointed directly at the blonde. "Arrest him!"

Blue eyes widened considerably as the pure confusion ran through his mind and prevented the knight from reacting to the several guards surrounding him. Two stepped from the circle and roughly grabbed the knight's arms, while another one stripped off Allen's sword and belt.

"Wh-What is the meaning of this?"

"Don't pretend that you do not know," Aston hissed, clambering up to his feet. "I know all about you, Sir Allen Schezar …. I here forth strip you of your title and any immunity within Asturia."

"What offense have I done to deserve this?" Allen demanded. "I have always served this country loyally."

Aston's smile tainted to a smirk, "You have always severed a country loyally, but I do not think it is Asturia. As the crown prince of Zaibach-" Allen's stomach sunk and the coldness of Aston's stare engulfed him. "-we can assume which country to which you are _truly _loyal."

"Where did you hear this?"

"By the one person who put a hole in your traitorous plans," Eris, who had been standing silently next to her father's throne, spoke up. Her voice reflected her father's anger, but there was a heavy tone of grief.

"Isn't that right?" She lifted her hand and placed it on the child's head who was hugging her waist loosely.

"Prince Chid…" Allen was barely able to breathe out his name. Armand had been right. Chid was the attacker, an imposter! If he was truly a Doppelganger, then it only meant one thing: the real Prince had been murdered.

Though sadness painted his inner heart, the knight clenched his jaw and glared ahead. "It's a lie."

"Are you saying you are not the Prince of Zaibach?" Aston almost teased. When Allen didn't deny or confirm anything, the King chuckled. "Your silence is _golden_." Looking at the two guards flanking the prisoner, he tipped his chin up and commanded, "Take him to the dungeons. _No one_ is to see him."

* * *

Two day flew by in a blur of metal and royal colors. Hitomi's stomach kept churning in every direction the closer it came to when the healers would allow Van to enter in the war. If she cried, he'd feel bad or so Armand said.

After being so long on bed rest the knight was thrilled to be allowed to hobble around on crutches as long as he didn't over exert himself. Being pampered by all the maids and cooks convinced the brunette to use this injury to his advantage.

As they all sat at the table for dinner, Armand being allowed to join them since he wouldn't be fit for the battles ahead for a month or more, decided to try and lift the spirits.

"So tomorrow's the big day, eh?" So far, he had only made them sink like an anchor in a bottomless ocean.

Hitomi's eyes began to water and Rai swiftly slapped her son on the back of his head while she was refilling his drink. Merle tried to kick him under the table, but only managed to hit air. The old maid gave an encouraging smile and Van glanced away.

"I'm done," Hitomi couldn't sit there and make like nothing life altering wasn't going to happen tomorrow. She wasn't _that_ good of an actress.

"Nice going," Merle stuck her tongue out at Armand and scooted her chair back before leaping from it and running after Hitomi. If everything else was different, the two females at least had one thing in common: they both loved Van in their own ways.

As for the king, there was nothing he could do but watch them leave. There was nothing he could say to make them feel better, no promises he could make. They needed to rely on each other, as they would learn in the months to come.

"Sire?"

Van turned his attention to his knight.

"May I have a word with you?"

Leaning back in his chair, his hand gripping his goblet, the King considered saying 'no', but instead told the knight to continue.

"About the Queen and your duty in the bedroom-"

"I told you I _don't_ want to discuss-"

"Sire, please, hear me out." Armand was using his 'normal' voice, the one that sounded like a knight and not a gossiping maid. "I am serious about this. It really _isn't_ any of my business, but I beg you to consider what I am about to say for just a moment."

"Fine," Van fought to keep his blush down.

"I wish that you would think about an heir," Armand's blue eyes were met with mahogany eyes. "Up till now it has been all fun and games, but with you heading off to war and without knowing whether you truly will return— the kingdom will be in a fragile state. At least if they knew there was an heir, if the people knew the Queen didn't _have_ to remarry thereby handing over the throne to an outside power— to know the blood of Fanel wasn't going to end and with it Escaflowne—" Armand sighed and looked away. "It's just a thought."

Van felt a new weight settle on his shoulders.

"I can't approach her with these reasons and expect-" His eyes studied the design on the table cloth instead of finishing his thought.

"Then approach her as her _husband_," Armand suggested. "Not a king, but a man who loves—" Van's face snapped up so quickly Armand almost heard an audible 'snap'. "Okay, _cares_ for her."

"To _use_ her like that?" Van spat out after a few moments.

"You must care for her enough to be willing to consider her feelings on this matter," Armand indicated, making a valid point, but only received a cross stare from Van.

"I'm not heartless."

Taking in a deep breath, Armand closed his eyes.

"Caria thought of our daughter as another part of me to love and a part of me that would love her unconditionally when I was gone." _Even when I was right there_, Armand added mentally. "If you are gone, at least a baby could give some comfort." He reached for his crutches, "And there aren't any assurances that one night will do the trick anyway."

Van raised an eyebrow.

* * *

"Are you scared?" Her voice was lighter than a wind's sigh in his ears.

Van turned, staring at his bride. She wasn't wearing her robe, and with the balcony doors opened enough to show the bright sparkles and lively fires of the festival down below to be see, he knew she _had_ to be freezing. For him, the air was cold, but with the help of a large fire and the lack of wind made it bearable.

His mind blanked as she stepped further into the glow from below as it brushed light through their bedroom windows. Hitomi stared at him with questioning eyes as Van went from the top of her soft blonde hair, tracing every feature of her face with his eyes, and continued his slow study to the tips of her naked feet. The gown she wore was made from a fabric that clung without bunching, allowing her curves to be highly feminine and delicate.

"W-what?" He had trouble speaking with his mouth dry and his throat sticking together. "What did you say?"

"Are you scared?" She repeated, stopping right next to him as he leaned on the doorjamb of the balcony. He could see a faint hesitation when she reached up, and gently touched his upper arm.

"Not of fighting," Van commented, forcing himself to look back toward the source of the fire glow. His breath caught in his throat and he had to restrain himself from locking up when she laid her head on his shoulder and curved her body against his.

Did Armand or Rai talk to her as well? How could he ask that! If they did, she wouldn't admit it. Van knew he'd deny any type of conversation of that nature with Armand.

"Are you afraid?" Van questioned, covering her hand with his own.

Turning her face more into his shoulder, a muffled "Yes" was heard.

"Of what?"

"Of never seeing you again," Hitomi answered softly.

_"…a part of me that would love her unconditionally when I was gone…"_ Armand's words echoed in Van's mind. It was a possibility he might die, though he had all the desire in the world to live through this, it was still a probability. His grip on her hand tightened, as a silent war went on in his mind.

_"…gone…"_

The idea of being with her, completely, was tainted by not knowing whether it was truly what he wanted or if it was just the knight's words meshing with his senses. Van wouldn't tell her, couldn't ask her to do something that would make her feel so—so _used_.

When he turned, she let go of him. Van rested his back on the wall and drew her to him tightly. Wrapping his arms around her, he nuzzled his face into her hair and breathed in her scent. Hitomi squeaked in surprise.

Van wasn't afraid of fighting; he had been trained by the best to be prepared for the worst. He was sick over the thought of dying and of leaving her. What would she do without him? What if the roles were reversed? What if something happened to her and there was nothing and no one who could comfort _him_? Maybe this type of being used wouldn't be completely selfish.

Sending a silent prayer to anyone who was listening, Hitomi made another noise of shock when Van gently tugged her away from his chest. Her eyes were wide and questions were dancing within their green hues. He couldn't say anything, so he allowed his actions to speak for him. Lightly brushing her cheek with his fingers, Van allowed her time to back off before he made his final move.

Hitomi's eyes instantly slide shut as Van's mouth moved over hers. He was behaving oddly, even for him, but Hitomi wasn't going to ask anything to make him back off. He was warm and he was there with her. Come tomorrow he wouldn't be anywhere but gone and she couldn't let that thought rule her.

It only took a slight turn of his head and her breath escaped completely. As before, her knees went weak as her mind blanked of rational thought only to fill with a warm, cloudy feeling. Her fingers trembled as she gripped his shirt. She wanted to be close to him, the closest he would allow her to come.

If he pushed her away now, Hitomi knew she wouldn't be able to hold back the tears anymore. She wanted to have the unfailing belief he would come back triumphant. Still the facts and lingering knowledge he might _not_ was too heavy to move and too big to cover up in optimism.

The kissing soon wasn't enough as both started to become bolder. Van's lips worked their way down Hitomi's neck as his hands lost their shyness. Hitomi was caught by complete surprise as her fear rose astronomically. She had swallowed her fear, he wasn't pushing her away.

"Van," Hitomi breathed out, close to his ear. She felt him shiver in reaction and couldn't stop a small smile. Without warning, Van had scoped her up bridal style and made the short trip from the balcony to their bed.

Carefully, he laid her on to the bed. Van took this time to strip off his shirt and threw it behind him. Garnet eyes studied the beautiful creature lying on the bed, flushed face, and eyes clouded with desire for him. Hitomi's hair was mused, her night gown was far from decent at this point, but her eyes were still on him. She wanted _him_, not anything else at this moment and Van felt guilt prick his heart, guilt and a very large feeling of pride.

This beautiful creature was enraptured by _him_. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close to her body again. But would she be so compliant if she knew?

"Hi-Hitomi," Van forced out, having gotten reasonable hold on himself. If what Armand said was true, this was the only time she'd have to know the truth before anything else happened.

"There's something—you have to know." Though he tried to move away from her, Hitomi kept her arms around his neck in a lose hug, not really a difficult hold to get out of but he didn't move when she didn't.

"Is it that important?" she asked, her voice deeper, sending chills through him. With one of her hands, she gently cupped one side of his face, and brushed her fingers through his hair.

"Yes," he answered solemnly, leaning into her touch. "There is—something I haven't told you—about myself."

Though it was important to tell her about his 'curse' he couldn't resist nuzzling the spot where her neck curved into her slender shoulder.

Hitomi nearly purred when his lips met her skin again.

"Van-" she managed hoarsely. "If it's part of you, your past, or whatever, I'll love it." There was an unmistakable flash of uncertainty in his red eyes.

"I love you, Van," she sealed her statement with a bone-melting kiss.

If she wanted to pretend that it wasn't going to affect her, if she wanted to think love could cover up his demons, then he'd let her pretend. He would pretend that, for just tonight, the world wasn't falling down around them and that the drums of war were just his heart as it pounded in his ears.

Just this once, he could pretend that he could stay with her.

Meanwhile, just outside the door stood a knight with a semi-wistful smile on his lips, but that quickly melted into a bitter frown when a guard came rattling along the hall and stopped outside the door.

"You even think about touching this door and I will break every bone in your withered little hand," Armand growled at the guard who had his hand raised slightly; ready to knock on the bedroom door stopped cold in his tracks. "Am I understood?"

The guard nodded slowly, eyes wide.

Armand leaned forward to make sure his threat was clear, "Tell your buddies that tonight, the king is _not _to be disturbed."


	37. Off

**Chapter 37**

* * *

"Van?" Hitomi croaked out. Her voice was always a bit unmanageable when she first woke up. Judging from the sky color, it was nearing sunrise. She spotted her husband almost immediately, as he slipped on his shirt as he exited their bathing room.

When his head poked out of the top, his eyes met hers. Tugging the garment into place, he gave a soft smile, "Morning."

"Good morning." Hitomi's cheeks flared and she couldn't understand _why,_ but they did regardless.

"I have something for you," Van's voice was still raspy, proof he hadn't been up too much longer than her. Hitomi slowly drew herself up into a sitting position, her modesty having returned to her in the sun light as she held the sheet high and close to her body.

Sitting on the side of the bed, his back to Hitomi, Van fished something out of his pocket. With this vantage point, she could see a rather noticeable bruise forming at the base of his neck and her blush deepened.

"Here," Van said, turning to her and getting her attention away from his neck. Draped across his fingers was a thin gold chain, though the chain was nothing remarkable, the small pink, tear shaped pendant that was looped onto it was. The petite stone seemed to glow with its own life as she stared at it, mind blank and heart soaring.

"It's so beautiful," she murmured.

"It was my mother's," Van admitted, unclasping the necklace. "My father gave it to her on their first anniversary." He leaned over and gently put the necklace around her neck and reclasped the delicate chain. Hitomi looked down at the pendant lying against her skin. It wasn't anything that would scream out as special to anyone in a store, but it meant the world to her at this moment.

"I was going to give it to you on _our _anniversary, but circumstances being what they are-" Hitomi looked up; Van was still leaned in close to her with one arm holding him up. Without a single thought going through her head, the Queen quickly bent forward and gently kissed her husband.

Van was somewhat dumbfounded by this, but decided not to ruin the moment with unimportant questions.

When she pulled back, she gave him a full smile, "Thank you, Van."

Recollecting himself, Van cleared his throat and was on his feet within a bat of an eye. "I'm going to be leaving before noon, make sure you are dressed before then."

* * *

"Hungry?" Armand asked, his voice almost making a song out of the word as Van walked into the dining hall. "I'm sure you are," The knight answered his own question with a barley hidden smirk as he pulled out the chair for Van and started to pour his juice for him.

"Of course I slept well."

Van lifted an eyebrow as he sat down at the table. Armand soon followed and began to gleefully munch on a biscuit while humming to himself. The man was positively _bouncing_ in his seat.

"I bet you worked up quite an appetite!" Van sipped his juice as Armand buzzed with excitement.

"Did you get a hold of some type of medicinal herbs?" The first time Van had used a full sword in practice, he ended up tripping and getting a nasty cut on his stomach. To ease the pain of the wound, the healer had given Van a hand full of crushed Naway flowers to burn and ended up in a daze for a week. It wasn't a pain killer, more like a brain killer. After that he wouldn't even go anywhere near Naway plants.

"What? No. I'm merely happy because of all the possibilities!" Armand explained. His face was so happy that it had Van scared. Rai walked in, a large platter in either hand, and placed them on the table before her king. She took one look at her delinquent son and gave him the sound motherly look of 'what-did-you-do?'.

"Would you excuse Sir Armand for a few moments, your highness?" Rai asked politely, all the time eyeing her enthusiastic son. Upon hearing her request and Van's flippant response, Armand felt his stomach fill with icy liquid. "This way, _sir_."

Grumbling, Armand followed his mother.

Van couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as Rai's voice became shrill. Armand, between saying 'ouch' and 'nothing', reminded his mother he was a healing man and should be treated with gentler hands.

* * *

"What's the point of locking me up?" Allen inquired as King Aston looked at him through the bars of his jail cell. "I've done nothing but serve Asturia since I came here."

"You failed to mention you were the crown Prince of Zaibach, how do I know that you aren't spying on Asturia for your homeland?" Aston shot back, folding his arms behind him. The guards were posted out of earshot.

"_I'm_ not the traitor," Allen pointed out, stood up to meet his King face to face. He was caught between bowing to show respect and acting like the Prince they accused him of being. "You've arrested the wrong person!"

Aston chuckled darkly, "Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean that Prince Chid is a doppelganger!" Allen braced himself for a nasty remark or even a threat of death for such blasphemy, yet nothing like came. "Who knows how long he's been posing as the prince."

A silence stretched between them until the king gave an empty eyed look to the knight. "I know that child isn't Prince Chid," Aston admitted with a shrug. "Doubtlessly my grandson has been taken somewhere that will take a war to find him."

"Then why-?" Allen _knew_ that Aston didn't like him for whatever reason the king chose to not like the knight. "If you know-"

"Do you know who told me of your lineage?" The old king smirked. "Who asked for you to be arrested?"

Allen remained silent, though his blue eyes narrowed a bit.

"Your charming sister."

The knight clamped his eyes shut, as a frown traced his lips. Backing away from the bars, the man dropped down on his cot, hands clasped in front of him as he leaned on his knees.

"I was expecting more of a show of shock from you, Prince Allen."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, your majesty." Allen replied hollowly. With a 'humph' of disapproval, Aston clicked a few short words and left the blonde alone.

Behind his blue eyes, Allen's mind replayed one of the last times he ever saw his sister.

_"You couldn't-" Allen slowly backed away from his sister. It had been just wrong to see her in a frilly pink dress, petticoats fluffing out her dress with ribbons tied in every single blonde curl on her petite head. It contrasted sharply with what was crashing around them. "Serena!"_

Allen tightly shut his eyes again, trying to cover up the image forever etched into his mind's eye. That was the day that he realized he couldn't save the country. He couldn't even save them. So he did what he felt was right, he left Zaibach to be ruled by more capable hands.

It was the only way he could justify his running away.

* * *

"Isn't it a beautiful day?" Armand purred, as he plucked several pieces of jewelry from the Queen's collection, slowly hobbled over to her and began to put each one on the proper body part. "To think that today we should be going to war instead of on a picnic! Such a waste of sunshine!"

"Are you feeling well?" Hitomi asked as she raised an eyebrow. Armand being in a good mode wasn't as rare as him being in a good mode and not tormenting her.

"Perfectly dandy, thank you so much for asking my darling Queen." The knight gave a large smile.

"Do you have a fever? Are you hallucinating?" Hitomi, after the bracelet had been put on her wrist, touched the knight's forehead. He froze for a few seconds, his blue eyes grew large, but he snapped himself to attention by backing away from her.

"Why is everyone so suspicious about my attitude?" He crossed his arms and gave her a firm look. "You should be concentrating on the ritual of waking Escaflowne. If you were to mess it up just think of what that would mean for Fanelia! The great guymelf would never wake up! King Van would be without the greatest defense of the country and it would be your entire fault! We'd all die, or become slaves to Asturia and you'd get the title of the deadly Queen of Fanilia!"

"You're feeling fine," she grumbled.

"Of course I am," Armand said smugly. "Please make sure you are out in the great hall an hour before the ceremony, your majesty." The knight gave a quick bow and slowly made his way out of the room. As he shut the door behind him, the brunette leaned against its wooden surface and closed his eyes. His hand over his wound and his head tilted back. "_Damn_."

* * *

Hitomi winced, watching as Van slide his thumb down his sword's razor sharp side. Blood soon started to flow from the cut; he let the droplets fall down into the odd shaped crystal heart, and then raised it above his head. Every knight in the kingdom, except for Jill, had come and surrounded their king as he woke up their greatest weapon. From the stories she read about their history, Escaflowne was only awakened when things were just _that_ bad and had no other way to resolve the problems.

The blonde wasn't stupid; she knew Van had withheld information from her. He didn't tell her how bad it really was. Armand, when pestered and pleaded with, just gave a snide remark and left it at that. Rai looked away when questioned and commented on the weather.

Why were they hiding it from her?

The dragon's heart started to radiate life as he held it above him, repeating the words he had been muttering under his breath for the past hour, but this time his voice was strong and sure. He'd been nervous about forgetting his lines, but he didn't let that be hidden from her, so why something else?

With a shriek of power, the gears around Van came to life, turning and spearing light upwards. The entire cast of onlookers gasped in amazement, Hitomi's eyes stayed on her husband's now tranquil face. Blue swirls of light spiraled around the pinkish hue as more of the machine woke up to its new master. With a powerful shot of energy, the light whipped its force upon the cocoon shaped rock. Within seconds, the rock began to crack, each crack glowing and pulling apart from the main body.

Worry wrapped around her heart in the brief moment that the rock fell freely from its home and down toward the king. It was only a breath of worry as the rocks seemed to dissipate and in their place landed a massive, caped machine. There was a collective gasp as the giant white guymelf kneeled in its landing in front of its King.

"Escaflowne has awakened!" One of the knight's screamed as he threw the doors open, and yelled for the trumpets and drums to sound, allowing the citizens to know what had happened.

Hitomi, flanked by elder knights, felt a familiar itch in her mind. She tried to fight it off, tried to block what was making her world spin.

_A silhouette of a city, burning brightly against the dawn. Screams and tears over flowing from throats and eyes and in the middle of it all, a single man looking down at a crumpled woman at his feet._

"Your majesty!" Armand's voice broke through her haze as she trembled violently. "Get back!" The knight ordered to the onlookers, "Give her space."

Light headed and now filled with fear, the Queen searched for her husband. As if sensing it, Armand steadied her and he shook his head. "He's already taken Escaflowne into the courtyard. He didn't see your little episode, my Queen."

"I need to speak with Van." Hitomi's voice was light, and barely audible.

* * *

"So you see, there _is_ no problem," Folken repeated, feeling very frustrated with the head strong, obstinate brat in his company.

No matter what he said, Serena still screwed her face into an unhappy, disbelieving scowl. "He's _late_."

"Perhaps they had to wrestle with him," Folken suggested with an impartial shrug. "Either way, things will work out to their full script. We can't fail now."

Serena opened her mouth to protest, _again_, but was cut short when there was a light knock on her door.

"Come in," The princess instructed, rising from her chair and giving her attention to the young knight who came through the door slowly. "What is it, Giol?"

The young knight cleared his throat, "I-I wanted to speak with Lord Dilandau." Serena made a very unladylike noise in the back of her throat and sharply turned her head, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I will pass the message on, Giol," Folken assured in his even voice. "What is this about?"

"He asked me to check out a rumor that he heard about King Coron abandoning his kingdom," Giol explained, clearing his throat again, the nervous man shook his head. "The king is still there, an inside source says that he hasn't made any plans to leave or to attempt to bring an army together."

"I see."

"Slena is not a war country; it's mainly frills and flowers," Serena groused, glaring at the red-headed messenger, she told him to leave in a harsh voice. Jumping at the Princess' command, the knight ran into the door before collecting himself and scampering out the door.

"Things will go according to plan, do not worry. Rumors are merely spoken worse-case scenarios and often time are dispelled as quickly as they were formed." Folken turned his attention to the map pinned up on the wall. Their entire world drawn out and colored in for studying, when it was on paper, it seemed so small.

"May I ask you a question?" The girl coated her words with sugar, acting as a princess should once again. Folken rose an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. "Why do you want your home country to be shredded by all this?"

"It won't be destroyed," his voice dropped in tone and became serious. "Just as you do, Princess, I want what is best for my country and sometimes it is a precarious and bloody path to the best place."

"An answer of a true Prince, poetic, selfish, and yet incredibly shallow." Serena dropped into her chair, running a finger the length of her chin over and over again. "Just another pretty puddle."

Just outside the door, a figure clad in his country's colors stood, listening intently to the going on of two plotters. His forehead pinched together as he absorbed as much information as he could before someone came by or they noticed the door was letting their little secrets be heard.

He had been their scapegoat. This time, when the tricks were played, he would make sure to be three steps ahead.

* * *

Van sighed, "I cannot _not_ go."

Hitomi had told her of his vision and then proceeded to beg him to reconsider an alliance or a truce.

"Asturia won't hear of a truce, Allen must have failed on _that_ mission." They hadn't heard from the knight since he left, though Hitomi believed the blonde would be able to soothe the kingdom's angry heart.

"But what I _saw_-"

"What you saw was death. There will always be death in war, Hitomi." Van's garnet eyes became softer in their expression as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "If you can see the future, if this is what is going to happen. I already knew that. Millernia's death was just the beginning of it all, I don't know who killed her and the others, but the damage is done. If I don't go, Asturia will crush Fanelia." That didn't do much to lighten her mode, Van could tell. "Armand will be here, to protect you."

Hitomi wanted to fight with him more about this, but it was fruitless. He was going to lead his people into a war with odds that weren't in Fanelia's favor.

"Fine then," she relented, knocking his hands away from her as she turned.

Sometimes, Van nearly grumbled out loud instead his mind, if countries fought like women the worst that would happen is that the kings wouldn't talk to each other for a bit. Grabbing her wrist and forcing her to face him once more, he opened his mouth to say something but a guard called out that it was that the preparations were complete.

Releasing his wife, the king sighed, and stared at her for a moment before he started to leave. What could he say now? What was it he was going to say? Van shook his head slightly, as if clearing out his thoughts. He had to focus. Focusing was the one way to keep him and his kingdom alive and free from a tyrants—

"Van," Hitomi's voice broke through his thoughts. Glancing over his shoulder, he locked eyes with the wet green pair of his wife. He didn't say anything as she seemed to struggle with words. "Come back to me."

Casting his glance downward, the man didn't reply as he began to leave again.

"Van!" Her voice sounded just a shade more desperate than a second before. He stopped again, but didn't look behind him. "I love you." The last word was broken in half by a barely controlled whimper.

Something inside him shivered with emotion at her words so softly and tearfully spoken. The king made no reply as he left the hall and Armand came to collect the queen minutes later to watch the army march off to battle. The gleaming metal of white and the snapping of the giant cape of Escaflowne was all that Hitomi could see and hear as it led the way out of the city, and the slowly blurred with the forest horizon.

Merle had been near tears beside her, but before any were shed, the cat girl ran into the palace claiming to be hungry.

There was nothing else to do, but for her to bite back the tears. She was now in charge, running a country solo. Van would come back, maybe not anytime soon, but he would have to come back. She waited for him to come around to her for so long, and then last night—Hitomi closed her eyes and braced herself for the future. Surely, she thought, when he returned, he'd finally say those three little words she'd been dying to hear for months.

Armand, seeing the spectrum of emotions cover his Queen's face, decided to break her thoughts.

"Well now, my Queen," Hitomi looked up at the taller man. "You have no one to hide behind to get away from me." Her pain was momentarily forgotten as a wicked grin spread across the knight's features.

"You have to be joking."

"I still know where your favorite pink, bow littered dress is kept." Hitomi's eyebrow ticked, remembering the horrible thing that Armand had insisted she wear when Van and she headed out to Slena. "So, let's start teaching you how to properly run a country."

Armand turned on his heel and slowly walked away, his wound obviously still causing him some discomfort. Hitomi couldn't help but smile at her injured knight, maybe he didn't say it in so many words, but he wanted to help her keep her mind off of Van.

"First off, all the knights get a _huge_, empty-the-royal-reserve raise in pay."

It was going to be a very interesting time, Hitomi thought rolling her eyes.


	38. With Thoughts

**Chapter 38**

* * *

Van searched the horizon for any sign of enemy soldiers, but so far nothing. Two days of nothing and it was getting rather tiresome.

"Are you sure about this captain?" Van questioned for the tenth time.

"Yes, sir," the man replied, "The rumor checked out."

"Then why aren't there any guys over there?" Another leader shouted. "Not so much as a stray dog has come through here!"

The two officers started to bicker and Van sighed. They had a clear view of the field, which was a pretty sorry place to hide and attack from, but the rumor was their best shot.

He was not about to lead a full blown attack on Asturia, that would be suicide. After talking with his military leaders, it was decided the best thing to do was block any invasion and protect the Fanelian borders. If they set foot into any other country, Van knew he would inadvertently drag that innocent country into a war and forced to choose sides. Also, it wouldn't help his statement of innocence if he went around attacking the royal family anymore than they already thought he did.

"…how _dare_ you speak about my mother in that tone!"

"And why shouldn't I?" The man groused. "She's _my _wife!"

The King sighed, leaning back in his perch from the tree. He wondered if Hitomi was fairing all right with all the duties thrust upon her so quickly. She knew the basics; thanks to her extensive reading of the boring texts, but books were a far cry from practice.

He thought about her panicked look and it made him smile. She was so cute when she got worried. Shaking that thought from his head, he told the feuding family members to be silent as he scanned the horizon again.

A light breeze started to blow and Van squint his eyes, trying to get a better image.

Was it his imagination or was there a glimmer of metal for a brief second? Like the flapping of a cape, revealing a knight's shined, undamaged armor before covering it up again?

But that's impossible!

Wasn't it?

* * *

There were curses and crashes sounding from the room above where many of the knights were eating and they knew one thing was for certain: Dilandau was not happy. The truth of the matter was he had not been happy for about an hour or so. Many people outside his rule thought the man was insane, but somehow, he always won. His method was in his madness.

The reason for the fit of anger lay in a messenger from Asturia who had come long ago and ran directly up the steps. A few moments later, there was a scream of shock and then a heavy thud heard but barely over a shriek and colorful curse. There was no mystery as to what happened. Apparently, the messenger had informed the general of something that didn't please him.

Folken stared at the livid armor clad general, "You need to calm down."

"Calm down?" Dilandau shouted, grabbed the blue haired man by his cape collar and shook him violently. "How can I '_calm down'_ when everything is now _ruined_! I wanted to destroy Asturia! I wanted to destroy it all! To make those hypocrites burn!"

Folken made no moves to protect himself, only gave a steady look to the angry face in front of him. If the general could spit and snarl, the Fanel man had no doubt he would've.

"Nothing is ruined, delayed, but not ruined. You are being very short sighted."

Releasing the man, Dilandau staggered backwards until the back of his knees hit his chair and he dropped down into it.

"They aren't going to let the prince go, so we have to go get him! And once we have the Prince, we can burn that pretty little kingdom down." Picking up his bloodied sword and a stray cloth, the general began to clean his sword from his messenger's blood. "We can leave tonight and be back by dawn."

"And alert the rest of the countries to what we are doing?" Folken questioned in a serious tone. "We will not attack Asturia, they have too many allies. We just need to refocus and decide another plan of attack. As long as Asturia has Prince Allen in their midst, we can't attack at random."

"But I want to. We don't have the doppelganger, we handed him over so Asturia would _arrest_ the prince and now they have both of them!" Dilandau hissed, cleaning his sword with jerky motions. "I want to set Aston's pig head on fire and watch him burn away like a candle."

The taller man remained impassive to that statement. This was past head-butting politics down to just plain sadism of a pyromaniac.

"I have already recalculated our plans to compensate for the fact that both Princes are with Asturia now. I have decided we need more strength."

"_More_?" Dilandau scoffed, his finger tracing down his cheek. "We are feared because of our overwhelming numbers and our technology is unsurpassed. What would _more _strength be able to do that we aren't able to do now?"

"The historians always relate that when a certain three countries ally, they are perceived to be undefeatable." Folken let a small smile grace his features. "Due to our earlier strategies, two of those countries are now at war or very soon will be."

"And?" Dilandau asked, obviously bored with the subject since death and fire had been extracted from it.

"One of them will need us to survive," Folken let a small bit of arrogance come to his eyes. "We need Princess Serena to do more work."

The other person hissed viciously, "Must we involve her _more_ than we already have?"

"Yes," Folken replied in a flat tone. "She has to regain Van's trust so that Zaibach may gain Fanelia's king and their main weapon, Escaflowne."

"After all she's done?" Dilandau snorted, "He'll have to be insane to cooperate with us."

"Grief causes people to do—desperate things."

The blue eyes of the general sparked with interest at the mention of grief. If grief was involved, it often meant destruction was its herald. He liked—no, loved to destroy. Watching as the helpless and weak begged for mercy before he snuffed them out of their pitiful existence were what colored his daydreams.

"_Now_ that sounds like something I could agree with," the younger one chuckled, an inane grin stretching across his face.

* * *

"Come back here you living hairball! Don't run away from me!" Armand shouted down the hall as Merle scampered away on all fours.

Hitomi looked up momentarily, sighed, and continued to read the trade treaties and other various legal papers. Running one hand through her hair and tugging on her golden strands gently, she found a new respect for her husband in doing all this work.

She had always assumed when he disappeared for the majority of the day, it was to practice fighting, lounge about, or avoid the common palace chaos that seemed to follow both Merle and Armand around (which, in turn, they always seemed to follow her around these days). Instead, she had found out for the past two weeks, he had been in his office working from sun up to sun down, revising documents, and handling disputes in the kingdom.

"This is so boring," Hitomi remarked to a rather lengthy complaint a farmer had put in about his neighbor. She begged for a distraction and that resulted in Merle knocking over an ink well onto one of the many papers. When Armand went to clean it up, Merle accidentally put her hand on his white sleeved shirt, staining it with the black ink what ensued was the fiasco currently happening.

Leaning back in the chair, Hitomi stared out the window at the forests beyond the city walls. Her mind wondered back to where it had been since Van left for war two weeks ago. Information was limited, but by all accounts there hadn't been an official battle yet.

There had been a whisper around the country that Allen had been arrested in Asturia for circumstances no one was clear about.

So much was happening! Hitomi cried in her mind as she tipped her head to either side, cracking her neck.

"Your majesty?" Lilya, one of the maids, stood at the door peeking in shyly.

"Yes?" Hitomi was caught between happiness and dread. Happiness she would be torn away from this boring paperwork and dread because it might be _more_ paperwork or someone to complain in person.

"You have a guest, Miss Leiko Kanzak," she announced in a somewhat scared voice.

"Let her come in," she hadn't seen her family in such a long time, not since Millerna had come- before she-

"_Sister_!" The energetic voice filled the air second before her busty older sister came through the doorway. Looking over her shoulder, she gave a condescending eye to Lilya, "You may go."

Standing up and walking away from the cursed desk, Hitomi greeted her sister with a hug. "I haven't seen you in so long!"

"Probably because I got banned from the castle, but with your reserve soldiers now in place of your real guards, I just said who I was and they started to run around like a bunch of chickens!" Leiko laughed loudly at her own joke. "How do you stand to have that kind of power and not make them do silly things constantly?"

"They do inane things without my wanting them to all the time, I hardly want it _encouraged." _Hitomi's smile twitched as she muttered under her breath. Raising her voice to an audible level, "What brings you around today?"

"Oh listen to you! You sound _so_ snobby now! I guess your King taught you a _lot_ of things." Her sister winked and sashayed over to one of the extra chairs in the room and dropped down into it. "Wow, nice chair, I'm impressed."

Hitomi blinked in mild surprise, "How is everyone?"

"Oh you know, I'm engaged again, this time he's only fifty! Scary thought is that I might actually make it to the wedding day if he doesn't kill over first." Her sister shrugged. "Daddy isn't happy about the war since we will lose money. You know I had to wear the same dress _twice_ in a month? _That's _how poor we are now! That's why I got engaged to such a _young_ rich guy for once."

"Heaven forbid," Hitomi sighed, rolling her eyes. "How are Father and Mother?"

"Packing," Leiko replied, giving a rather envious eye to her sister's dress and jewelry. "You know that necklace doesn't match your dress, baby pink and blue-purple are _so_ not compatible."

Her hand instantly flew up to the pendant, grasped it, and kept it safe in her fist. She hadn't removed it since Van had put it around her neck. Armand had the audacity to try and take it off and she had slapped him on the hand without a second thought. Of course the knight went into his dramatics that he was abused and he'd never be able to lift a sword again because the queen maimed his right hand.

"Perhaps we can offer that _neko_ for a treaty. I'll say _she _stabbed me!" Armand growled, coming back into the room. He couldn't stomp, still being stuck with a cane. The healer's had made him use one so that he could walk hunched over when necessary. The man found it a rather useful whacking stick for Merle and Hitomi on different occasions.

It was going to be firewood before long if Armand kept it up Hitomi had vowed silently.

"_Sir_ Armand, isn't it?" Leiko instantly purred, slowly rising to her feet and slinking over to the brunette. "So nice to finally meet you again."

"Yes, I know. I just have that type of personality." Armand deadpanned, his blue eyes flat as his voice. "You are- Leeky?"

Unphased, "Leiko, Queen Hitomi's charming older sister." Hooking her arm through his, she beamed her best smile to the knight. "I hear that you're single."

"Leiko!" Hitomi fused, "You're engaged."

"Always keep your options open, Hitomi. I've _always_ told you that." Armand's mouth twitched, as if trying to control a nasty beastie that begged to bite the woman's hand off. "Oh, before I'm distracted by this tall, dark, and gorgeous man, Father wants a permit for all of us to leave Fanelia."

"_What_?"

"Daddy wants to leave, the trade is dwindling to nothing and he refuses to be shipped back to the poor house." Leiko stroked Armand's arm and the knight muttered something under his breath. For whatever reason, the man was holding his tongue. "Most of the tradesmen feel this way."

"I…need some time to think," Hitomi managed to struggle out and forced a smile. "Why don't you stay for lunch, Leiko?"

"Oh!" She tightened her grip on Armand. "How _wonderful_."

"Armand, will you please inform Rai that we'll have a guest."

Breaking Leiko's deathlike grip from his arm, Armand gave a shaky smile, "With pleasure, your highness."

"Talking about _pleasure…_" Leiko gave her best look to Armand who had quickly backed up to the door and left within a blink of an eye.

"Leiko," The older woman turned her attention to her sister. "Armand's into men."

"Seriously? But he's so handsome; he could have any girl he wanted! He could have me for pity's sake."

"He is sinfully into men," Hitomi lied.

Leiko shrugged, "Could be worse, he could be married."

Hitomi could feel her migraine coming back. Though Leiko caused the queen to remember a half-forgotten fact. Armand wasn't hideous looking, his personality was tolerable to a deaf person, and Van said he _had_ been married. So why was a very eligible knight still by himself?

With a twitch of one of her eyebrows, the idea that he _really_ might be into men ran across her mind.

* * *

Allen closed his eyes, one leg was propped up on the bed, and the other was over the side. Behind his blue eyes, he played and replayed the lifetime ago when he had been the Prince of Zaibach and proud to be so.

That was before it was washed away in a tide of red and silver, before Dornkirk had-

"Hello, my prince," his blue eyes snapped open at the sound of the voice. Jerking his head to the side, he saw one of the last sights he ever thought he'd see again.

"Naria," Allen whispered, astonished to see the lovely neko on one knee bowing to him. From the golden hair, to the tail swishing behind her Allen couldn't believe who he was seeing. "What are you doing here?"

"I was asked to escort Prince Chid safely back to Asturia."

In other words, Allen thought, climbing to his feet, she was part of the plot.

"Why come see me? What are you _really_ doing here?" With grace only a cat possessed, she drew up to her full height, nearly able to stare the knight directly in the eyes. She had grown into a lovely woman since the last time he had seen her, curves, and her rather revealing outfit gave him a rather detailed image of just how much she had changed.

"I came as a messenger," she smiled, her eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint. "Your sister wishes for you to join her once again."

Allen grimaced, "No."

Naria tipped her head to one side, as if questioning his quick and harsh answer.

"Have you truly forsaken your homeland?" The neko's tale twitched faster as he stared at her.

_"...All those people!" Allen screamed at Dornkirk, the woman at the old man's side insisting Allen to be quiet. "You are no better than he is! You knew what he was doing and you still let him -"_

_The sound of her slap resounded in the main hall. The woman's eyes held a rare fire of anger that burned brightly. "You will not talk to me in that tone, boy."_

"I was born in Asturia, Zaibach was a foster land to me," Allen explained calmly.

"I was born there too, but it never was home to me," she purred. "Why do you avoid us, Prince Allen?" She reached through the bars and touched his face. He seemed preoccupied by his thoughts, but her gentle touch jarred him out of his stupor. His eyes grew as he stepped back quickly.

"I'm not _Prince_ Allen anymore. I relinquished my title when I left." Allen clarified, pressing his back to the furthest wall from the bars and the neko. "Tell Serena I have no interest in any type of offer. I am a part of Asturia now."

The neko let a wicked grin cover her mouth, "There won't be an Atsuria much longer, _Prince_ Allen. You've never forgotten us, you still want to be in Zaibach, and soon you will be. Remember that." She bowed, and gave a slight laugh before slinking out of the prison.

Allen let go a breath he had been holding, and dug his fingers in between the stones of the wall. There had to be a way out of here! He had to protect Atsuria! King Aston didn't realize the type of danger he was putting his country in by dealing with Zaibach.

Serena might want to keep Allen alive, but her two right hand men supposedly wouldn't give a second thought to a blood bath of any city. Stratego, the fallen prince, of _where_ it was never said but he was known as the 'fallen prince' who was incredibly cunning and crafty. Then there was Dilandau, the general who had appeared a few years ago and quickly established a reputation as a fiery demon who thirsted for blood.

It was _true_ though, he had never really forgotten about Zaibach. After all, he had been its 'prince' for over ten years. He kept up with the gossip and random bits of news that came from the country. No matter what, he thought somewhat disgusted; he was still worried about the ins and outs of the country.

Especially his sister, he blamed her sad state on those two generals. _They_ had to be at fault. She wouldn't have been-wouldn't have done- it wasn't her fault! But he couldn't go back to her! Not like this! Not while she was still with those two!


	39. Thickening

**Chapter 39**

* * *

"King Van, you have a visitor."

Van looked up from the rolled out map laid out on his table. His highest ranking military officers around him as well.

"She says it's urgent."

"She?" Van questioned, raising an eyebrow. Excusing himself, he walked out of the tent and waited for his soldier to say something else.

"She's in the dining tent," the soldier scratched the back of his head in a nervous manner. "I didn't think all the guys would be nice to her so-"

"Thank you," The king said, walking in the direction of the mentioned tent. Pushing back one of the dirty brown flaps, Van first saw the curtain of curling, blazing red hair. He wasn't sure why, but his heart dropped a bit. Perhaps, he mused for a second, he was expecting Hitomi to run out to meet him.

At the noise the woman turned, her hazel eyes wide.

"Your highness," she jumped to her feet. The woman was slender, with a knee length dress on that had seen better days and cleaner times. "I'm so thankful you would see me." She was pretty, Van said to himself. Not that he was attracted to her, but he couldn't help but admit the woman didn't lack in looks.

"I was told it was urgent." And he thought it might be Hitomi, but there was no need for him to acknowledge that. "Is something wrong, ma'am?"

That was apparently the code phrase for 'break-down-and-cry-hysterically-for-minutes-on-end' because as soon as those words reached her ears, she lost what little control she had.

"I-I'm s-s-so sorry!" She wept, wiping her fat tears away from her cheeks with the back of her hands. "I-I really didn't want to d-d-do this in front of you!"

Van, having never been one who was calm and collected around women to begin with, felt like an odd duck standing there watching a grown woman cry and whimper. It took him months to figure out what to do when his own _wife_ became a blubbering mess but a complete stranger?

"Uh-would you like some-water?" Pathetic. Armand and Hitomi would take turns hitting him for being so naïve to the ways of women if they were here. As if water would do any good for her nerves, all it _would_ do is make it easier to produce more tears.

"No, thank you." She took a few quick steps, looked him in the eyes. "You don't know me do you?"

"I-" Maybe it was one of the many ladies he had offered to him as a potential bride? "-should I?"

"I'm Mena, Coron's wife? Queen of Slena?"

His mahogany eyes grew wide with recognition. "Mena-what are you doing out here?" He grabbed her arms gently as another thought came into his mind. "Are you by yourself? Where is Coron?"

"I-I don't know! I don't know where he is! I think he's still in the castle," Mena shook so hard that Van directed her to one of the benches to sit down on as he crouched in front of her. "I don't even know if there is a Slena anymore."

While he had been there with Hitomi, Mena had always worn a veil over her face which was custom for the higher royalty to do in that country. The privilege of their beauty was meant for their families, not strangers. It also created an air of mystery.

"How did you find us?"

"I-was cutting through the woods. I know the roads around here; I was on my way to Fanelia to speak with you. It was just-by _chance_ that I found you here."

"You could have come in a carriage or at least by horse." Van pointed out, stood up, his left hand automatically rested on the hilt of his sword. "Why on foot, dressed like this?"

"Coron told me to leave and to drop out of sight. I'm not really Mena of Slena now; I'm just the peasant girl he found years ago in a farm town _in_ Fanelia." She seemed so lost and Van felt shocked. She was from Fanelia? A peasant and from Fanelia? It reminded vaguely of someone else- "Right now, I'm just Ana Kanzaki, the merchant's daughter and- Hitomi's baby sister." Mena looked him dead in the eyes. "Your sister-in-law."

The world was on a tilt for Van as he felt his stomach lurch. Did she really just say what he thought she heard her say?

Why did everything happen to _him_?

* * *

"…so the merchants are leaving," Hitomi concluded her mini-speech and stared at the faces of Van's council. Fear sat on her chest like a fat cat, purring with nervousness, and tickling her stomach with its furry tail.

The men glanced at one another but said nothing directly. Clearing her throat, Hitomi tilted her chin up a bit further.

"Many of the farmers were called here to the castle as reserves when the other guards and knights left," One of the younger men said slowly, as if talking to a dim witted child. Hitomi bit her cheek. Armand and Rai had both warned her the councilmen tended to be a bit short sighted.

In the month since Van had left, she had to meet these men twice. This was the second time and this time she'd make them see her point of view.

"I am well aware of that," she stated in her firmest voice. "I am also acutely aware of the fact our borders are closed to trade. We tend to lean heavily on trade routes for food and supplies, without them, the entire country could end up suffering."

"Our main goal, your highness, should be in supporting King Van in the field," Another man piped up, "And keeping morale high here."

"My husband is in the field trying to do one thing and that is to protect our people. I am doing the same. If we ignore those here, _not_ in the war, then they will suffer and resent the war." Hitomi braced herself, ready to faint or fight, she wasn't sure. "We need to show them that we are here for them, to protect, and make sure they are provided for."

"Then _what_ would your majesty suggest?" A snaky sounding voice came from the back.

"Most of the reserves are farmers, correct? Then send them to the fields to do what they do so well. We have plenty of empty lots around the city, let them be the providers." Hitomi waited for objections but before they could, she thought of another push. "They can also keep watch to let us know if anything is on its way."

The councilmen looked at her blankly for a few moments.

"Who will protect the palace?"

"If we have early enough warning, we won't have to worry about that." Hitomi wasn't _too_ sure about that, but it made the men glance around at each other again.

It took another hour or so before Hitomi emerged from the hall, exhausted but happy she convinced them to do things her way. Best of all, she pawned the paperwork that a new decree entailed on someone else. As she passed through the doors, she was greeted with the sight of her knight.

"How did it go, King Hitomi?" Armand asked, looking rather interested in his nails.

"I got my way."

"Oh, let me go jot that on a calendar, a _king_ getting his way in his own country. How rare."

Hitomi stuck her tongue out at the man. He had gotten into the habit of calling her 'king' since Leiko left. If she told him to stop it, he'd only do it more. If she threatened to cut off his hair, he'd call her a murderer.

"Who put you in such a bad mood?" Hitomi questioned, walking toward the study.

"Bad mood? What on _gaia_ makes you think I'm in a bad mood? This is as good as it gets without stunning you with overly charming personality." Armand's blue eyes met hers before he sharply turned away. "And I have to relay a message that was just brought to us."

Hitomi's stomach tightened as the butterflies erratically began to flip and flop in it. Was it about Van? Was it good news? Bad news? What if it _was_ bad news? "And?"

"Sir Jill never made it to his appointed destination."

She stopped in her tracks, "Why?"

"They don't know," Armand shrugged. "All the local mountain yolkals found was his shredded camp and his dead horse."

"No sign of Jill?"

"Not so much as a toenail clipping."

Hitomi nodded and entered the study, with instructions not to be disturbed.

* * *

Allen paced back and forth; there was nothing else for him to do in truth. Aston had only made one visit, he never clarified how he knew that it wasn't really Chid in their midst. The boy looked like the ten year old, sounded like him, but just had a darker aura around him.

Then Naria had come, making his already spiked suspicions ever more sharp. What could he do for Asturia locked away in a prison cell? Perhaps he should have taken the opportunity the neko offered, to be free of here.

If he could get out of here, he could fight Serena or reason with her, whatever it took to get her off this destructive path. No matter what she did or would do, she was the only family he had left and he could forgive her anything.

Her bright blue eyes and trusting smile, that's how he'd remember her. His little sister dancing around in the field of flowers before they met that stranger and brought him home to meet their mother. It was after that day everything slipped apart and blurred into a grayish muck of the present.

Clenching his fist, Allen tried to control his emotions.

He'd have to practice patience for now. He would wait for the neko to come back and make the offer again.

To save his sister, he'd go through hell. He wouldn't run away anymore.

* * *

"Where's the mean one?" Merle questioned, perched on the window sill in Van's study as Hitomi tackled not only the new practice she wished to put into place, but all of the nitpicky people she wanted to protect. In the five weeks of her being in charge, she felt like her brain was going to explode as her patience withered.

"Who is that?" Hitomi never broke from her reading to acknowledge the neko.

"Armand. He's been gone all day. Did he sleep late?" To punctuate the point of sleep, Merle gave a half yawn and stretched her hands upward, clawing at the air as she did so.

The truth that Armand hadn't been around caused Hitomi to pause and stop her reading. She had been so busy she hadn't noticed the lack of irritation and infuriating ways. He hadn't been at breakfast; _she_ had hardly been at breakfast due to the council meeting being so early in the morning. They had it held at that time because that is what _Van_ wanted.

Hitomi made another mental note to speak with Van about his early-bird ways when he returned from the field.

"I don't know. Go ask Rai," With that, Hitomi returned to her paperwork.

Merle, noting she was being ignored, decided to find something more interesting to do. She got a weird kick out of messing with the knight who pretended to be such a snob, only to start roaring and fighting mad when picked on too much.

Except with Hitomi and Van, Merle noted, but that was probably because they could ordered him to be a pig farmer or something if he ticked them off too much. The easiest way to find the delinquent knight was to go to his personal tracker, in other names, his mother, as Hitomi suggested.

"He's—out right now," Rai answered vaguely after Merle found her in the kitchen prepping dinner for the castle. "Her majesty approved of his leave of absence earlier."

"Figures. That woman probably just forgot," Merle pouted, swishing her tail behind her. When Rai brought out the freshly cooked fish from the over, the neko was right by her side, hopping on her feet and nearly purring with excitement. "Can I have one?"

The neko reached her hand out only to get it smacked with a spoon. "Certainly not! You have to wait until dinner!"

"But what if something happens to me before then?" Merle tried, "You'd feel bad that I died with an empty stomach."

Rai narrowed her eyes, "For as much as you two fight, you sure have picked up some of Armand's nastier guilt habits."

* * *

Van cursed as Escaflowne lost her footing and began to stumble. The guymelf in front of him took this opportunity to strike. The sword came down hard and fast, Van pushed himself out of the way but Escaflowne's cape was punctured. The enemy thrust his sword deep into the earth, making it impossible for Van to get up or move away. The guymelf opened his hand, as a red glow started to form in the palm.

Quickly Van brought his own sword up and thrust it forward with all his strength. The enemy reeled backward, Escaflowne's sword buried to the hilt in its midsection. Giving the machine a firm kick, Van watched as the enemy guymelf fell rearward and into a non moving heap. Grabbing the sword in his cape, Van released himself and threw down the sword, and collected his own.

The middle of the blade was stained red, indicating that whoever was piloting the guymelf was now part of the causality of this battle.

They had attacked out of nowhere, the enemy forces appeared at dawn and had savagely shredded through their camp. Most of the soldiers were up and fighting before the first man fell, it had been going on ever sense. One after another, Van and his knights brought the mysterious guymelfs to their knees.

As the last one fell under Van's sword, an eerie silence covered the scarred land. Broken, bloody trees and bodies lay around like confetti after a festival. The king felt sick to his stomach that this evil was deemed necessary, that he would be forced to kill in order to protect what he loved the most: his people.

Before his thoughts could consume him, the troops screamed out a cheer of success. They had faced their first battle and came out limping, but victorious.

"I want to know who these soldiers belong to and if there are any survivors from them," Van ordered as he stepped out of Escaflowne. A few of his followers nodded, bowed, and scampered off to find out what their lord wanted to know.

After making sure all the injured were treated and cared for, he gave another order that made the men grumble.

"Bury the dead. Ours and theirs." The soldiers complained, but picked up various things and began to dig.

Making his way back to his tent, the king was more than grateful to fall on his bed, throwing his arm over his eyes and letting the other one dangle off the edge. Not wanting to make himself too much of an easy target, Van insisted he leave the tent with the royal colors and crest at the palace.

"Is it all over?" Came a sweet female voice to which Van sat up, and rested his weight on his elbows. Ana stood in the doorway, clutching her hands tightly. "They are all gone?"

"Yes," Van pushed himself into a sitting position. The last thing he needed was his men getting ideas about him and this married woman. "For now at least."

"I must be such a bother," Mena spoke softly, her shoulders slumping. Though they might be sisters and share similar quirks, there was still a wide margin of difference between the two women. Hitomi was quick to speak her mind and stand up to anyone and anything for something she believed while Mena or Ana seemed to be the typical docile female.

Though, Van mused, Coron would probably snort at that thought.

"Your majesty?" Came a voice from the other side of the tent, when given permission, the man entered. His eyes automatically went to Ana. "Sh-should I come back at another time?"

"No. What did you find out?" Van asked, standing up and in the line of view of the soldier to Ana. The last thing he needed was a distracted messenger.

"We know who sent them." The man said after clearing his throat. "It appears to be Asutria's doing. We found their men inside the guymelfs and their flags at the encampment close by."

Van felt sick to his stomach once again. He had hoped Asturia wouldn't act out on their declaration. That some sort of miracle would occur and prevent this type of mess from happening. Now, with the first blood split, there was no going back. He shook off his dissembled hopes and told the messenger to collect the generals as soon as possible and inform them if they hadn't been told already.

Ana excused herself from Van's presence and wandered off into the forest surrounding the camp. In the safety of the trees, she bowed her head into her hands and cried. All the emotions swirling around her heart and the thoughts that wrote themselves over her mind, all she could focus on was her own pitiful state.

* * *

"Who is going to believe this?" Princess Serena hissed, standing by Folken who just gave a flat stare to the girl. A man dressed in red and black armor turned his head to observe the girl.

"Why shouldn't everyone?" The man questioned, "You are a grand master of trickery."

Serena wanted to throttle this man or pull out her hair, "Watch what you say, _Dilandau_. You still are my _servant_."

"Always," the man replied, a smirk hidden behind the helmet he dawned.

"As long as Sir Gatti is willing to back you up, you will not be questioned," Folken pointed out to Dilandau who nodded slowly. "The rest of the Dragonslayers will follow his led if there are any doubts."

"And what I'm I suppose to do? Knit?" Serena bit.

"We found where they are, you will be the one to make him an offer he will not be able to refuse," Folken instructed the princess. "With Fanelia and Zaibach together, Asturia won't be able to stand up to the combined armies."

"I don't care," Serena growled. "I want my brother back. _That's_ all I care about."

"Of course," Folken replied and then turned to Dilandau. "You will stay here and keep care of the troops."

"As you wish," The man replied.

Folken nodded and left the two by themselves, knowing they knew the importance of the other enough not to kill each other. Entering his own room, he discarded his cape, he felt rather than saw his visitor. "What do you have to report Eriya?"

The silver haired neko crept out of the shadows and stood directly behind Folken.

"My sister has yet to return from Asturia."

"That only means Allen is being stubborn," Folken assured without much concern about the topic. Getting Allen on their side wasn't his idea and he only agreed to do it to keep Serena quiet and happy. "What about the other one?"

"Everything was successful," she purred, in a hushed voice. "As you said it would."

"Very well," he glanced at her over his shoulder, "I have your next mission ready." With a half smile, he told her what to do in detail. Her eyes widened in surprise at the sheer brutality of what he was suggesting, yet she knew this was a war of wits and physical strength and sometimes people needed a rather hard shove in the right direction.

"Delightful," she replied, not wasting any time to start her appointed duty.

When he was sure she was gone, the blue haired man stared out the window of his room and into the starry sky.

"I'm sorry to make you grieve like this, brother," Folken spoke quietly to himself, "But you left me no other choice.


	40. Sweet Dreams

**Chapter 40**

* * *

"You're a filthy beast!" was Rai's immediate reaction as her son staggered in close to dawn.

His boots were caked with mud, his hands nearly black and looked as if they had several small cuts over them. Smudges of dirt speckled his clothes and his skin, but his normal mocking eyes were downcast.

It was a highly unusual sight to see him in a state like this. Normally, he would grouse if he had dirt under his fingernails and a piece of dust on his clothes.

"I usually have to pay extra to hear those words," Armand quipped in a solemn voice, his head bowed.

Rai gave a huff of frustration before her son looked up.

"I fell asleep," he offered lamely, slowly moving toward the kitchen exit to head to his room.

"And rolled down hill? Do you realize how long it will take to get all that mud off those pants? _Or_ what time it is? Have you been out drinking all night?" Her son remained quiet, just grabbed a towel from the rack near the sink and wiped his face free of the dirt and muck. "Armand!"

"I'll be in my room should her majesty need me for anything." With that, the knight disappeared from the kitchen.

Deciding her chores could wait, Rai followed her son out of the kitchen. Because he was moving sluggishly, as if his feet were filled with lead, she caught up to him easily. Catching his wrist, she tugged on his arm until he half turned; only offering her a profiled glance.

"Armand, what's wrong?" He jerked back when she reached up to touch his face. Her eyes widened as he finally made eye contact with her. "Son-"

The knight gave a small smile that didn't even throw a small glimmer into his shadowed eyes, "Yesterday was her anniversary." With that, he turned back down the hallway and slowly walked away.

* * *

"But to allow that woman to stay here," one of the eldest advisors continued, and Van felt tired of this conversation, but kept his emotionless mask securely fasten. "Why not send her to Fanelia? To be with the Queen? _That_ is a more appropriate place for her."

"Agreed," a younger man spoke up. "Having a woman around all the time is only handy if she can cook and clean. She does neither." The man leaned over to one of his comrades and with a smirk in his voice, "But did you see the _legs_ on that girl? Not to mention her-"

"She is my friend's _wife_ and the _Queen_ of Slena, remember that," Van snapped.

The men were bothered enough by her being around, but openly discussing her assets was something Van would _not_ tolerate.

Giving a 'you-know-better' look to the younger men who stared at their feet rather sheepishly, the elder member of the group turned back to his liege.

"The point still stands, your majesty, she is not safe on the battlefield."

Van wished he could let the truth of their comments roll over him. Ana had been with them for weeks now, but he couldn't send her home or to _his _home. It was selfish, he knew, but he did have reasons.

On the first night she had come to the encampment, the displaced Queen confided she was told to leave by her husband because he feared the worse. Coron, Ana had stated, wanted to protect her. The ebony haired man wasn't too sure how throwing one's unprepared wife into the middle of foreign woods was _protecting_ her, but Coron wasn't known for his military tact. Sometimes Van wondered about his friend's ownership of common sense.

In his heart, Van knew he should have sent her to Fanelia, to be safe within the city that was still untouched with battle scars, but he couldn't. A _country_ was after her, though she didn't clarify _which_ country it was, the last thing Van wanted to do was invite a ticked off enemy to his front door.

Especially when he knew his wife would be answering the door those enemies might knock on or knock down.

Just the thought of losing her made him shut down mentally so he did his best to distract himself from those types of thoughts.

He had decided to let Ana stay until she told him _who_ was after her. Not only her, but also the heir to the Slenaian throne. When he asked about her daughter, the Queen became silent and said she was being provided for as best as the child could be but didn't feel comfortable to say with whom.

"I _implore_ you, your grace; let us escort her away from here," The knight's voice broke Van's mind cycle.

"No," Van stated flatly. "She came to us by chance and as a friend, I won't send her away until I am sure she is of no use to us on the field." Van made sure to leave no room for debate in his voice. It sounded _wrong_ to say he wanted to use his sister-in-law, but it was better than letting them know that he didn't want the capital in trouble.

"Your highness," the nervous soldier addressed him as the King was giving a cold, insistent glare to the higher ups, "Y-you have another visitor."

There was a pregnant pause.

"Are you joking?" the eldest man asked.

"N-no."

"Did we give everyone bloody roadmaps to find us?" a flabbergasted knight inquired sarcastically, searching the faces of his comrades. "What is the _point_ of sleeping in the woods, trying to hide when we don't seem to be doing such a good job!"

One slanted glance from Van shut the man up immediately as he remembered, miraculously, he had to attend to a sick chicken. Seeing their lord was through entertaining them, the generals and knights scattered to tend to various things.

"Who is it?"

"There are two," the man clarified, and Van's silence clearly stated 'and?' to the man. "They're from Zaibach. Princess Serena and General Dilandau."

It was an amazing thing to experience, one's blood leaving one's face while the blood pressure shot through the roof.

"_What_?" was the king's rather unhappy reply.

* * *

"…they are kept through there," a quiet voice answered as a slender finger pointed toward two great metal doors that stood three stories high.

"And is Sir Allen's among them?" Eriya asked, her blood nearly singing with anticipation of battle, as the small child beside her seemed oblivious to the actions of his lord.

"Yes," the doppelganger said, "Does your sister know you are here?"

The cat woman flicked her tail as she drew closer to the doors. Her own guymelf wouldn't do for this particular mission, not if the effect she had to pull off was to be done correctly. Though they looked heavy, the doors were well maintained, and after Chid produced the key that opened the door, Eriya walked into the guymelf sleeping cell.

"They are magnificent, aren't they?" She purred, drawing her claws against the metal leg of the nearest machine as she walked past it. The doppelganger remained impassive in the doorway, for lack of interest, and also to make sure no one was going to come. Turning, the neko gave a wicked grin, "Go let the others in. We have to be there by sundown."

* * *

Hitomi's mind was at boiling point. The councilmen were being extremely difficult due to the fact a _female_ was calling the shots and most of them considered her a little girl out of her league. True she was a 'peasant' by birth, but the entire kingdom was made up of peasants. She knew what it took to keep them happy and supportive of the royal family. The old coots, however, thought what they needed were to be taxed even more to support the war.

Armand and Merle were acting like two kids from the depths of the fire realm because they got into a rather messy battle of the bread at dinner. Having had enough, Hitomi told them the only thing she could think of, first was that she was going to tell Van about their actions when he got back. Secondly, that they needed to go to their rooms and think about what they've done.

Then came the report from the field! Van had actually sent a letter home to her, but in his true cut and dry communicational fashion had been short and to the point.

_'Doing well. Have yet to come into a major conflict with any of the Generals or knights, mostly foot soldiers. The men are hopeless cooks and cleaners. Keep Fanelia strong. Van Fanel.'_

That was _it_. When she gotten the letter she promptly went into a rather extensive rant about how inconsiderate men could be. After that, she was too exhausted to feign interest in anyone or anything and decided to go to bed. In sleep, she hoped her mind and nerves would smooth out some of the friction.

Instead she dreamed.

In the dream it was foggy.

Who dreams about fog? Hitomi thought as she spread her fingers and stretched out her arms. There was nothing to the fog but the opaqueness, no wet or cold, just the white, thin clouds. Maybe it was all the stress she had been under in the pass month and a half since Van's departure.

Maybe fog had a deeper meaning to her mind. Of course her mind wasn't going to tell her what it meant, so Htiomi kept making her way through the fog. It was slowly dissolving as she walked nowhere in particular, but amazingly enough there was a dark spot in the fog. Deciding it was her point of destination, the woman traveled toward it.

Soon, the blob of darkness formed a silhouette of someone, still drawing closer, her breath caught in her throat. "Van!"

He turned around; his only reaction was the shock on his face. Van might have said something else, but she didn't care as she ran to him and flung her arms around her husband's dream-self.

"Van!" She squeezed him to her and felt tears burn her eyes. If this was a dream, she prayed it would last for a few more minutes. Even in this dream like world, Van still acted like she would picture him acting, hesitating before finally returning her gesture with a lose hug. Then, after a few seconds ticked by, the ebony haired king embraced her with the force of a drowning man to a piece of driftwood.

She felt his warmth in her mind and nearly melted on the inside.

"I miss you," Hitomi whispered into his chest.

"I'm right here," Van's deep voice seeped into her very bones as tears started to slowly travel from the corners of her eyes. Before she could open her mouth to respond to his sweet statement, he was gone.

An instant later, she woke up.

For a disorienting moment, she reached out to Van beside her but all that was there were cold sheets.

Hitomi's eyes widened before she pinched them shut, her eyes burning. Slowly the tears started to push through. _Gods_ how she missed him. The dream was nothing but a tease of what she couldn't have.

Flipping onto her side, she bit her lip to keep her tears from falling anymore, but it didn't work.

After that, she didn't go back to sleep that night, for fear of dreaming of Van again.

* * *

Allen felt the tremble of the palace and instantly felt a rock land hard on his stomach. The immediate response from the castle was to shiver from the power being expelled as the mortar holding the stones in place was loosened and rained down from above him.

As if this experience wasn't jarring enough, the thunderous rumbles in a steady beat made his eyes expand. Grabbing on to the bars of this cell, the blonde tried to stop the guards as they flooded seemingly from the cracks of the walls and passed him by.

He gritted his teeth, a few months ago these men would have doubled over their own teeth to come to help him, but now they barely saw fit to feed him regularly. No matter what he said, they didn't stop. For them all to abandon the jail, he knew it had to be bad.

Allen was a seasoned enough warrior to know the sounds of guymelefs waking up in the castle and, more importantly, walking the earth.

A small chuckle caught his ear; Nairi stood half covered in the shadows, her fangs gleamed in the soft glow of the torches. Just like Allen, she too was completely ignored.

"What's _happening_?" Allen demanded from the neko.

Tipping her head to the side she gave a small smile, "Destiny."

* * *

"You look happy," Armand said suspiciously as they sat down for breakfast. "And I don't trust _happy_. At least not on you."

"I had a dream about Van," Hitomi sighed with a smile. Deciding it was the long hours and hard work that drove her exhausted mind into conjuring up the reassuring presence of her husband, she still smiled, though it hurt to think about him. "We were in a fog-"

"Stop!" Armand insisted, raising his hands up. "I will not allow you to put _your_ nasty little fantasies into my pure, unwilling ears." For emphasis, the knight shuddered. "I would lose the ability to stomach food."

"It's not like that," Hitomi's face was a lovely shade of tomato red. "Why must everything with you be so infuriating?"

"I am infuriating?" The knight touched his chest in shock. "Well-this is news to me!"

Ignoring his pesky attitude, "What do you think the fog means?"

"That you're an air head," Armand replied, not even considering his words. He made a small noise in the back of his throat when he saw Hitmoi's narrowed green eyes on him. With a nervous laugh he added, "Your majesty."

"I was trying to be serious."

"Some things just don't suit you. Being on the bridge of giddiness and overly seriousness are two of those things." Armand turned his head and closed his eyes when Hitomi huffed and looked away from him. "Sorry."

"You are?" she inquired, shocked he sounded somewhat serious himself.

He gave her an extensive look over. "You look horrible. I guess I should know better than to leave you to dress yourself in the morning."

"Everything I have on matches," Hitomi defended.

"You look like wallpaper," Armand groused, "Don't you have anything that is more becoming than that sorry excuse for a dish rag?"

Puffing out her cheeks in irritation she shot, "I can't help it! All my other dresses are getting—snug."

"You snarfed down so many cakes and cookies in the past two months, I'm surprised you can fit into anything besides a saddle." Armand sighed, and raised one hand to his forehead just as his mother walked in with a large plate of muffins and Merle trailing her. "I should be happy you are filling out, too bad it's in all the wrong spots. That's what's so bad about being a stress eater."

"The pot calling the kettle metal, darling," Rai reminded him sweetly and Hitomi gave her a small grin.

"I find it in my best interest to remind you, Armand, that you are still under my jurisdiction and therefore subject to any and all penalties I see just." Reading all those boring legal papers were finally paying off!

Armand looked taken back, but gave his trademarked smug grin. "Someone has been studying her vocabulary. Teacher is so proud."

This time it was Hitomi who started the bread battle.

It came to a screeching halt when a messenger ran in, distraught and frazzle, gasping out a message that erupted into pure chaos.

There had been news, Asturia was making a devastating blow this morning, demolishing everything in its path. The entire city was being demolished; the blood that didn't get swallowed up by the fires was freely flowing in the streets.

* * *

"You _liar_!" Serena shrieked, beating on Folken with her balled up fists. "You lied to me! You sent me on a wild chase for what? For _what_!" Her blue eyes were ice fire as she pushed on the man. "I made a _fool_ out of myself!"

Folken allowed her to attempt to injure him as she ranted on. She had returned only a short while ago from the Fanelian camp and proceeded to yell and scream about the stupidity of it all. With fiery tongue she let him know precisely what she thought of his plans thus far in the game.

"Such a pity," The armored general shot off, causing the princess to glare at him. He had wisely kept to himself, as instructed to do by Folken, but it was just too much at this point not to poke fun at the overly proud female.

"You were no help whatsoever!" The princess pointed out, her eyes narrowed even more until they were tiny slits.

"Forgive me your majesty; I didn't realize I was permitted to talk freely in your presence. _You _were the one who insisted I go as a military voice. Prince Folken is the one who told me to stay here; I disobeyed him because, as you said, I'm _your _servant." The insincerity and truth of his words would have to wait, Serena decided.

She twisted away from the general and started to slap at Folken again, venting her frustrations out on him verbally and physically. In a blink, Folken grabbed her wrists, and held them tightly.

"I never lied." She struggled to get away from him but his grip was too strong. "I didn't know exactly what Van would have to say about this alliance."

Serena hissed in pain as Folken's metal hand bit into her flesh, causing tiny punctures in her skin.

Releasing her, the blue haired man stepped away and tucked his artificial limb back under the safety of his cape.

"He didn't even entertain the thought. He barely spoke to us and didn't let me get a full three sentences spoken before he said 'no' and left," Serena seethed. "Now what was the point of all that?"

Tipping his head to the side slightly, the man studied her.

"It's already happened."

"What has?" The general asked, worry streaked in his voice, making Serena give him another warning look.

"Van had to have something to persuade him beyond a shadow of a doubt to join forces with us," Folken put his metal arm on the map of their world, searched out one particular country and dragged his fingers across it, shredding the country to shreds. "I just provided us with that something."

* * *

"Absolutely not!" Van fumed, jumping to his feet and glaring at each and every one of his military leaders. What they had just suggested made his stomach twist and bile rise in his throat. How could they ever suggest such an atrocious thing?

"But sire, we are losing ground to these guerrilla attacks," The captain tried to reason, but Van would hear none of it. He wasn't about to ally with Zaibach, with _her_.

It was a woman's scream that broke their attention from the conversation. When it sounded again, it climaxed into a broken cry of anguish, as if her world had been ripped away. Van had heard that sound before, when the dragon he had slain's mate called out for him and he never returned. She made the same noise, the heart wrenching echoes of a shattered soul.

Worried, the meeting broke early as all the men flooded out of the tent to see the Queen of Slena barely being held up by her elbows by a sympathetic soldier as she had her head bowed and her knees on the ground. She screamed and cried out in great sobs, tears pouring from her eyes, and pain from her heart.

"NO!" she shrieked, tearing herself away from the soldier who had been holding her up. The scarlet haired woman doubled over in pain, crying harder than Van thought was humanly safe. "Coron! _Coron_! NO!"

"Soldier!" Van screamed at the one who had been holding her up, "What's the meaning of this?"

He thought that perhaps the woman was being violated, but to cry out for her husband in the middle of it?

"K-king Van." The soldier was distraught, his voice breaking as he trembled, trying to keep himself collected. As if he was trying to hold back his own tears, "Slena has been attacked."

Van's world lost all color. His heart beat thundered in his ears as his stomach and heart had a race to the forest floor. When the stomach hit the ground, it kept sinking but the heart splintered into a million slivers.

"What…?" he asked in disbelief.

Ana's sobs cracked into wails as she rocked back and forth, some of the more compassionate men falling around her, offering her comfort. She neither refused nor accepted their shoulders, since she barely registered that they were even there.

"Slena was attacked earlier this morning, before dawn," the man continued, shaking his head and clamping his eyes down tightly. "The capital has been leveled. The palace, the city, and the people were burned and torn down. N-nothing is left, your majesty."

It wasn't true.

Gods, it couldn't be true.

Coron!—his people!—an entire city lay to waste in the span of one day? Of one _morning_? It couldn't be true! There was no possible way it could be true!

"My husband!" Ana screamed, covering her face with her trembling hands. "I-I shouldn't have left! I should have been there with him! _Kory! CORON_!"

By this time, one of the older men, who could have been her father in age, collected the small woman in his arms and let her cling to him as she died inside.

"Who did this!" Van growled.

Slena was a notoriously peaceful country. It only had guards and knights for show, it wasn't built for war! The entire country of Fanelia enjoyed the close relations with Slena because of the trade and peacefulness of the other country. Who would attack such an innocent place? Why?

The man swallowed, hard. He opened his wet and hollow eyes as he answered, "Asturia, your highness."

Van's world, still the devoid of color, started to blur in disbelief.

"Witnesses said that lead guymelef was also responsible for destroying the palace single handedly."

"Do they know who was piloting?"

"It was said to be Sir Allen Schezar's guymelef."


	41. Choices

**Chapter 41**

* * *

"How did this _happen_?" King Aston screamed furiously.

It had been about twelve hours since they been robbed blind of several of their guymelefs. Most of the knights had been slacking or walking on pins since Allen's arrest. He was the highest ranking knight who was suddenly plummeted to the bottom of the well and none of the others were going to risk making whatever mistake Allen had. Most of them were oblivious to his 'crime' of lineage.

"S-someone robbed the guymelefs sleeping chambers/" 'Storage shield' just didn't sound as intimidating as 'sleeping chambers' to many ears, and thus the later was always used.

"_Thank you_," Aston snapped, annoyed. "I gathered as much as they went stampeding across my city!"

The young council member, who pointed this out, took shelter behind one of the older and more valued members in hopes the king wouldn't hurt him.

"I want to know _who_! Slena is _destroyed _and by all appearances it seems to the world as if we have done it! And there is no way to disprove it until someone is able to give me answers!"

The court fell silent. They searched one another's faces in vain, praying someone would either have an answer or be the martyr. As it turned out, none had the answer and all had a strong will to live.

"Father, have you consulted Sir Allen about this?"

"Why should I ask that _traitor_ about anything?" Aston bellowed. "More than not, all this is caused by him in some way!"

"More reason for you to question him, sir," Eries pushed in her cool, level voice. "If not him, he may be able to tell us who. He has nothing to lose."

Grumbling a dark rainbow of colorful words under his breath, the king appointed two council members to see that Allen was interrogated, but not to harm him permanently. With that, he barked to be left alone.

Even the princess made a graceful exit as her father stewed in his anger. His eyes were locked on the floor in a deathly stare; his fingers gripped the ends of the arm rest so tightly they had become white as snow.

_How could this have happened? He _thought that the worst part was when the machines were stolen, not really believing that the thieves would use them as quickly as they worst, the king had dreamed, they would break down the guymelefs and create new ones or sell them for spare parts to other countries. Nothing like this was ever even a dark thought!

A soft laugh came from the door way, breaking Aston's attention from the spot on the floor. The person was leaving, but just by the shadow, the king knew who it had been standing there. Jumping to his feet and storming over to the door, he threw it open and checked both ends of the hallway before speaking.

"I should have killed you as soon as I knew you weren't Chid," Aston hissed to the retreating child's back. The threat was dripping with acid and dark promise, as the king's eyes bore into the back of the blonde boy's head. The said head turned slowly and had a nearly demonic light gleaming in his blue eyes.

"Then do so," The doppelganger teased, a wicked smile crossing a normally sweet round child's face. "Kill me, Aston." He swiveled around on he's heels completely and stepped closer to the fat king. "Run me through with any sword, perhaps Allen's? Put another notch on his belt for innocent victims; put more blood on his dripping hands. Kill Chid and face the duke of Freid's wrath and the secrets kept within the temple."

Beady eyes enlarged as the old man growled in frustration, the fake-child had him backed into a corner. If he killed him, there would be only solid question asked: Who did it? If he could pin it on Allen, all would be fine except if Allen was executed as a way to find justice of the child's death, Zaibach would be furious. Chid could go 'missing' again, but since Asturia would be held responsible for his sudden disappearance; they'd eventually end up explaining something with a diplomatic lie.

"Who are you working for? Are you with Zaibach?" Aston's narrowed his eyes threateningly.

Bowing slightly as he spoke, "I work for their majesties and the lord general knight."

Zaibach. Doubtlessly, it was Zaibach. There was nothing he could do about this now, he knew that. If he told any of his allies, they'd either laugh at him for inviting the enemy through his front door or consider him insane. There was, of course, the third truth to be thought of: they too feared Zaibach's mysterious power.

"If that is all." The young prince smirked, bowing for a second time, "I shall leave you, Grandfather."

A nasty slap to his face with a single name. The young boy's quiet chuckling sounded extremely loud in the empty halls as it reverberated against the empty suits of armor.

* * *

"You did _what_?" Dilandau questioned, moving closer to Folken who eyed him skeptically.

"I had one of my trusted soldiers go to Asturia," Folken explained to the two. Thankfully, Serena was in a state of shock and left speechless. He only mentioned _one_ of his neko soldiers being in Asturia, after all there was no reason for Serena to know more than was necessary. "With the aid of the person within, we were able to commandeer some of the guymelefs of Asturia."

"You framed Asturia?"

Folken raised an eyebrow at the black and red armored man.

"Why?"

"Isn't that obvious?" the blue haired prince inquired seriously.

"Why not attack Fanelia and that little girl?" Serena's shock had worn off and her anger had warmed back up. "Why not hit Van were it would really _hurt_?"

"Why?" Folken parroted her question, "You said yourself that they didn't seem to have any particular affection for each other."

Gracefully, the blue haired man turned and stared out of the window, as the rain slithered down the glass.

"Killing her might have had no affect whatsoever on him. He might have even been grateful to be alleviated of his unwanted wife. On the other hand, I know personally know Van has always been particularly fond of Slena and its royal family."

"And no one is going to trust Asturia," the knight pointed out, half amazed and half appalled by the sheer brutal ingenuity of his leader.

"Yes. Slena was defenseless and it will appear as if Asturia ruthlessly tore it apart." Folken didn't look back as he continued to talk. "This is what you will present to Van when you talk with him again, Princess."

"So _she's_ going to live?" Serena's voice etched in the fact she was not happy about this development. Never mind how smart his plan, Serena had one objective to complete in regards of Fanelia's capital. The Queen had insulted her, and _no one_ was allowed to do that and not be punished.

"I never said that," Folken gave a private smile to himself.

Serena was easy to agitate and Dilandau had a problem of listening to only half the strategy and then make up the rest by burning down the world. It was better to keep his plans safe from other ears for now.

"Is she going to _die_?" In the reflection of the glass, he watched as the princess stubbornly crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.

"I never said that either."

"Hmmph. For not saying anything, you are speaking volumes," Serena snapped.

"The seeds of mistrust have been sown; it is up to your diplomatic charm to insure this 'tragedy' is used to the best of our ability." Folken, to make his next point clear, grabbed the princess, and turned her around until their eyes met. "_You_, Serena, _not_ Dilandau. Am I understood?"

"_I_ am the ruler of Zaibach, Folken," Serena replied in a velvety dark tone. "_You_ are an adviser. Maybe you shouldn't forget that before you start to list off orders." The sharp click of her heels and the slamming of the door cause the knight to jump but the prince was unshaken.

"And what of your loyalties, knight?" Folken's voice, though calm and deep, still was shaded with distrust to the man to which he was speaking. "Who do you stand beside?"

The man in red and black stared back at the prince through the eye slots in his helmet. "You, my lord."

"We'll see."

* * *

Hitomi hadn't been able to stomach the news very well, in fact the contents of her stomach spilled out across the floor. Armand had been utterly disgusted when she lost her breakfast in his presence.

But like a true man, he crumbled under her tears and instead of yelling about how she should learn manners (manners that consisted of knowing _not_ to toss chewed muffins on someone's rather expensively tailored boots). He held her hair back and made sure there was a pitcher of water and cup waiting for her to rinse out her mouth.

Merle had done her best to comfort the Queen, but only succeeded in holding on to her as they both teared up slightly. Flabbergasted and rather put out, Armand soon found himself lending his shoulders to the two women. He wasn't sure _why_ precisely Merle was crying, but the entire kingdom soon was shook by the news. _This_ is what made the war real to them. It was like losing one's best friend in a matter of seconds.

The entire kingdom shook with grief. The people who were closely tied to Slena wore black while others merely wore a black ribbon on their arm to show their respect for the fallen comrade. Young men decided to forget their family trades and signed up with the military forces. Some signed on from fear that it might happen to Fanelia next yet the majority was because of anger. To them, it was like beating up a small child who did nothing wrong.

The Queen heard about all the responses from her bed, where she had been for a week since the news. It wasn't her true choice, but every time she tried to resume normal work, fatigue would set in. Her nerves were changing constantly as was her appetite.

"You are just going to up and die and leave me with all the responsibilities aren't you?" Armand had huffed, "Such a selfish reason to kick the bucket."

So, to get the knight off her back, she finally agreed to see a healer. Hitomi was relieved to see a smile spread across the old man's face with a strong glow of honesty. Armand had insisted that the castle's head healer, Moric, be called to examine her after she had slept almost the complete time after the destruction of Slena. The old man had looked intimidating and gruff but his smile shattered that idea quickly.

"Are those all your symptoms, highness?"

"Yes, I believe so," Hitomi answered quickly. The healer chuckled and patted her arm gently, almost like a kind old grandfather.

"Armand is just being paranoid, right?"

"Correct. You have nothing to fear, my dear," his voice was sincere and trusting. "Your fatigue is due to stress. I'm sure that having the entire weight of a country placed upon one's shoulders cannot be worry free." He stood, adjusting his shirt sleeve as he did. "I've treated King Van for the exact same thing when he first became the crown prince."

The blonde woman gave a small smile.

"No, no it's not worry free at all."

It was a tireless balancing act which required constant effort and keen senses. It took so much out of her daily; she barely could remember that sleeping on the floor in the office was _not_ a good thing to do.

"Just stay in bed and catch up on your rest, your highness," Moric instructed. "I will speak with Sir Armand about tending to your needs."

One forced smile and a tired answer, "Thank you, sir."

The healer Moric left the room, as soon as the door shut, his shoulders sagged. He didn't like to lie to the young lady about her condition, but the knight had told him to do it. He had little choice in the matter since he wanted his drinking problem to remain a secret and the knight was related to his favorite bar. Lifting his brown eyes, the old man's heart nearly stopped beating.

Armand was waiting, cross armed, leaning against the wall right outside the door. His normal smirk traced his lips, but his eyes were the devoid of jokes and sarcasm.

"Well?"

"I told her," Moric confessed uneasily, "Though I must say, I didn't like doing it."

"Don't care about that," Armand said, waving his hand slightly. "I want her to be able to carry on."

"She should _rest_," Moric pushed. "It's my professional opinion that this could end up _hurting _her."

Armand pushed himself off the wall, walked to the healer, and leaned in close to the man's ear.

"Not a word," he said silkily, "or you will lose your cushy job."

"Why are you doing this?" The old man questioned, easing away from the brunette. "I thought you were loyal to Fanelia."

"I _am_," Armand hissed, "My loyalty to this nation and to this family should never be in question. What do you think would happen if she _knew_? If King Van _knew_? _That_ much more stress would be upon them and where is the fairness in doing that to _them_?"

Armand slipped back into his normal carefree demeanor and smiled.

"Besides, I think you are more concerned with not being able to tell this secret rather than if keeping it is the right or wrong thing to do!" He gave the healer a firm pat, "You're dismissed."

Putting a rather solemn mask on his features, Armand pushed his way through the doors and closed them with a sound clunk. The healer sighed and started to walk down the corridor and people wondered why he drank when he had to work with unstable people like that knight.

Inside the room, the blonde haired woman looked up to see Armand's less than friendly face staring solemnly at the floor.

"Why are you upset? It's just stress," Hitomi pointed out, fluffing up one of her pillows.

"I'm so sorry, Queen Hitomi," Armand started off, "So sorry—If I had known."

His words and body actions seemed as if he was legitimately worried. Hitomi's warning bells went off. What if the healer didn't think she could handle the truth? What if he lied to her? What if something was really wrong with her?

"I would have treated you better, had I known."

"What? What is it?" If he didn't come out and say it soon, she was going to have to hurt him to get him to spill. If he ended up with a permanent handicap because of it, it would be all his fault!

Armand's eyes reflected nothing but a seriousness that hung around him as he sighed deeply. Hitomi's breath caught in her throat before the knight gently said, "You are really getting fat."

"Get. Out," Hitomi ordered in a growl, plucked up one of her pillows and threw it at the knight who easily sidestepped the projectile. She thought he was being serious! That something might really be wrong with her but _no_, Armand was just playing one of his sadistic little games with her!

"Very well then, I will. I have other things to attend to anyway, well, besides some back woods brat with a fragile constitution," The knight replied flippantly, waving his hand as if dismissing himself from the thought of her.

"Polishing your boots or your nails?" Hitomi shot, slowly sliding down and further underneath the covers.

"Am I that transparent?" Armand gave a soft, fake smile and turned to leave. "A word of advice, your majesty." Hitomi remained silent, but peeked from beneath the covers she buried herself in. "Second helpings are a choice, not a requirement. Especially with desserts."

"_Get out!_"

* * *

_They_ wanted to know.

_His_ soldiers wanted to know.

The council hadn't been any help whatsoever. They had expounded on an equal number of pros and cons to the situation and in the end said it was up to him.

His anger ruled his head and he wanted nothing to do but strike back at those who took his friend away. Then the guilt swamped his heart like a swarm of mosquitoes to blood. Hitomi had mentioned something about a vision—a city being destroyed, utterly and completely. There was no way to know which city she had been seeing and he was sorry, so very sorry, to see Slena gone but in his heart he couldn't deny he felt slightly relieved it wasn't Fanelia's capital. The guilt from that thought made his mind heavy, and his heart couldn't withstand any more emotion.

There was no one to confide in, no one to talk to about this. They didn't understand this decision could affect not only Fanelia, but every other country on Gaea as well.

Ana, who was also a royal (at least when she took the name _Mena_), could have aided him, but she was quite unapproachable as he would expect any living being to be in her situation. Her home and family were gone in a single day. Since then she had laid in her tent, staring straight up, and crying through the sides of her eyes.

Then there were his other 'guests'. Serena had come back to him like a bad flu to reinstate the offer. She said Zaibach _was_ in the country of Slena, but Asturia's forces surprised and overthrew the Zaibachian soldiers. Van felt a serious suspicion about her 'innocent' part in the situation, but his own men confirmed seeing Zaibach soldiers in Slena acting peacefully.

"Your majesty?" came a voice from the other side of his tent. It made Van jump as it broke his thoughts.

"Yes?" Van answered slowly.

"Her majesty, Princess Serena, wants to know if you will dine with her?" That meant he had to give her an answer. She had asked him to dine with her every day that week and every time he turned her down. The man known as Dilandau also made his skin crawl. Something about the man seemed surreal, as if there was no flesh and bone behind the armor, just dark energy animating it.

"Very well," Van replied, standing up. "Tell her I'll be there shortly."

"You _will_?" The messenger chirped, thoroughly surprised. "A-are you _sure_?"

"Yes," the man gave a broken 'I'll tell her' before slipping away.

The bonfire in the middle of the camp, where most of the men were fighting over cooked lizards, animated their shadows. It made it look as if the demons from the pit were dancing and celebrating their blood rush they had on the innocents of Slena.

Stepping out of the tent, no one seemed to notice him as he moved through the camp.

He had made his choice. There was only one thing _to_ do that would allow him to actually sleep at night. Sighing deeply, the man drew closer to where Serena waited. He stopped, about ten feet away when a soft voice called for him.

"Ana?" The red headed woman with dark circles under her now dull hazel eyes, peeked at him from behind a tree. "Are you well? Is anything wrong?"

She shook her head and motioned for him to come closer to her hiding spot. He was soon enveloped in the darkness of the forest, standing in front of the broken hearted queen.

"Have you made your choice?" Her voice was timid and her hands shook. She acted a little like Hitomi and having Ana around made his mind remained unfocused on battle. His wife was in his thoughts, in his dreams, and it wasn't as if he wanted to shake her, but he needed to _focus_.

"Yes," Van replied listlessly.

"Don't tell me what you've decided," she pleaded, "but, _please_, hear me out." She swallowed the lump in her throat, so many emotions tied up tightly in her whole body and it made her weary.

"I know you dislike Zaibach and perhaps you have good reason." Ana licked her lips, Van, as ever, remained impassive. "But I want you to see me."

_That _caught him off guard as an eyebrow rose in slight, unspoken question.

"Do you want to see Hitomi like me? In this state of being?"

It only took a second of an image to cross his mind to make his stomach twist. He felt lightheaded and his heart shivered in fear, but Ana could not see this reaction as Van was very talented at being unreadable. He remembered in one of Hitomi's rather short spurts of insight that trait made him frustratingly unbearable at times.

"I-I can't make the choice for you, naturally. My husband—refrained from close alliances with Zaibach, and-" Her brown eyes started to glisten with tears again, "You know what happened…."

He gave a short nod, as if telling her that he heard her out.

"I have to go."

She nodded her head, feeling sick to her stomach as she watched him turn and leave. When he entered the tent with the Princess in it, she felt her knees turn to water as she sunk down to the forest floor.

"Van," Serena said, the poster-child of concern and innocence.

Van wasn't buying it.

Last time he did, she damaged his heart for years afterwards.

"Princess," he replied formally.

"Won't you sit? We can catch up?" Serena's blue eyes masked her darker thoughts. Though she had no true feelings for Van, she still saw him as a very tempting challenge. "Please?"

"No. I only came to tell you my decision to your proposal."

"No need to sound so _formal_," Serena prodded, knowing it was going to be bad news. "We were engaged once, and shared _many_ things." Van tensed as Serena smiled charmingly. "Do tell me your answer; I'm a tingle with anticipation," she said almost mockingly.

* * *

Many miles away, Hitomi shifted restlessly in her sleep. Images, horrid and bloody, conquered her mind's eye. She couldn't shut them out, couldn't make it stop no matter what she pleaded in her heart. It had been the same since Slena's destruction and because they only seemed to increase with every day, she asked Armand to sit in her room and wake her up when they got too bad.

Merle had been appointed to be the one to wake her at first, but then Merle's form of waking Hitomi up was to tackle her in the bed and scare the blonde awake. That would result in the woman screaming and the screaming would send Armand rushing in anyway so it was easier to have Armand there from start to finish.

He kept his head barely steady in his hand as he reclined in the chair next to the bed, with his feet propped up on the table by the bed. After so many nights of this, it was taking its toll. If he ended up ugly because of her nightmares, she was going to end up deaf because of his whining about being ugly.

When Hitomi whimpered, the knight sighed, knowing this was cause for him to wake her.

Armand hiked an eyebrow up slightly as he noticed that among the blue and silver glaze of light from the moons, there was also a definite purplish light coming from under her night gown. There was something strange about _that_ for sure. Stepping closer, he noticed that it was in fact a pink glow emanating from her necklace.

She let out another cry and he gently shook her awake.

"Your majesty. Queen Hitomi!" he whispered at first and then slowly escalated his voice. Annoyed and not particularly feeling nice he started in on the threats, "Either you wake up or I'll stick your fingers in warm water and you'll thoroughly embarrass yourself. After all, featherbeds aren't known for being easy to clean."

No response.

"Wake up you bloody brat," he poked her in the shoulder and huffed when she turned away from him. Looking around from side to side, as if there might be another person in the room, and reached under the bed where he had hidden his stolen goods. His mother had noticed them missing from the kitchen almost automatically after he taken them. With the two pot lids in his hands, he gave a wicked grin as he spread his arms wide and slammed the two lids together.

_CLASH!_

Hitomi nearly attached herself to the ceiling and in her confused, half awaken state, Armand slipped the lids back under the bed for next time.

"What was _that_!" she screeched, clasping her nightgown above her heart. "Sounds as if the palace is falling down!"

"What?" Armand asked innocently. "You just had a bad dream, my delightful royal one." After studying the knight for a moment, the queen leaned back into her pillows, breathing deeply as if she had just run the length of the kingdom. "What was it about?"

"What?" Hitomi questioned him, closing her eyes tightly.

"Your dream," he sat down on the bed next to her and waited for the blonde to answer.

"Horrid visions," she turned her face away from him. "A baby screaming, bodies on fire and Van's guymelef coated in blood and falling down-" A sob caught in her throat as the nasty image, seemed as real as life conquered her vision again.

Armand, feeling the brotherly tug, sighed and patted the top of her head. "I'm sure he will be well."

"I'm not," Hitomi whispered, ashamed of her own words. "I just have this feeling he made a bad choice."

Armand hiked an eyebrow, noting that the pink glow of her pendant had subsided.

"Of going to war? What was he supposed to do? Wait around for Asturia to come to us?"

"No…" She peeked at him, "It was something— more recent. I just kept seeing two women holding hands and Van bowing before them."

"How many times must I tell you!" Armand stated, standing up quickly. "I don't want to hear about your assorted fantasies dealing with my King! I simply can_not_ handle the psychological scarring."

This time, the pillow hit him soundly on the back of his head.


	42. New

**Chapter 42**

* * *

"Make sure to put this in the _King's_ hands only," Armand instructed, "I don't care if there is someone seating next to him at the dinner table when you get there and he offers to give it to the King. This is to go from your dingy little hand-me-down gloves with the rat bites in them to King Van's immaculate hands. No middle man _or_ woman. Understood?"

Armand tapped the letter in one hand while holding it with the other and had an eyebrow quirked in question.

"I understood ya the first ten times!" the messenger groused, snatching the folded and sealed document away from the knight. "All ya people think 'cause I was raised in the country and got a few bits missin' I'm an empty headed horse."

He puffed up his chest, the three hairs left on his head bobbed up and down as he talked, which was distracting from the four teeth left in his mouth.

Armand rolled his eyes, "And you are doing _so_ well to convince me otherwise."

The man looked like a pig farmer who lived in the same muck and even carried a heavy smell of animals on him. Regardless, he was the best messenger Armand ever found. The old coot was too stubborn to do anything, but what he was told, which is why a few of his fingers were missing.

"I'll get it to him in three days time," The messenger huffed, tucking the letter into his dirty shirt pocket. "I knows someone that can tell me where the armies are."

"Armies?" Armand inquired. "Don't you mean army?"

The news from the front line had ceased since two weeks after the destruction of Slena. Hitomi had smiled and said that no news was good news, but Armand and the rest of the palace staff weren't too convinced.

"You didn't hear?" The man's brown eyes narrowed as he leaned in closer to the brunette. "Now, you didn't hear this from me, mind you." Armand agreed, flipping his eyes. "But I heard our good King signed on with the witch from Zaibach."

"Insane! There's not a chance of that!" Armand barked, stepping away from the foul smelling little man.

"Fine. Don't believe it, but my friend saw it with his own two eyes." The messenger shrugged and headed out.

There was no _way_ the king would _ever_ side with that trollop! He would have to be cut in two and then tortured into stupidity to take such a deadly course of action!

_Damn_, Armand thought as he chewed his lip, _another secret to keep_.

The thoughts twisted his stomach, was he taking too many liberties with Hitomi and his knowledge? She _was_ the ruler after all and he, as always, was supposed to be the humble servant.

He let that thought die in his head. The man smirked, he was a smart-aleck knight who knew nothing but vanity, such deep thoughts were bound to lead to an undesirable reputation that had nothing to do with his good looks and high fashion.

* * *

Van pushed forward, cut through the soldiers who seemed to bleed from the mountains. The guymelefs swamped the battle field and many of the foot soldiers spent more time ducking the great machines than fighting the enemy.

One hard blow to the left, turn, duck, and follow the motion with a hard upward curve of his sword. Two enemies now fell backward, clutching at air.

It was always like this.

The battles had come more steadily since Slena. Asturia was finally taking Zaibach and Fanelia seriously after they paired up together.

Van still felt sick over his decision.

_"We are only going to be allies during the war. After that, everything goes back to normal. We will be nothing, but tolerant and indifferent acquaintances." _Van had that conversation in his ears, and clutched to them tightly to prevent him from ever losing focus. He spoke those words to the eerily delighted Serena who had a slightly icy look in her eyes after he made this point clear.

He still lacked the time and proper wording to write home.

'Hello. I'm now teamed up with my old lover. Van,' just didn't seem like it would go over too well with his wife. Even if he chose to leave out the part where Serena was _staying _at the camp instead of the floating fortress where Van was offered to go. It was just a bit too creepy seeing a huge chunk of land floating above one's head, blocking the sun while being silhouetted by the light and doused in darkness.

Back step, twist, and elbow the other guymelef in its 'gut'. The pilot was knocked back a step, but quickly recovered and charged the ebony haired king again. Before the enemy could make good his attack, Dilandau's blade ran through the midsection of the machine.

Yanking his sword free, the general swiped it once at the head. Blood flew from the chamber as the guymelef fell forward.

That was another thing that Van felt was odd.

Dilandau seemed confoundedly _nice_ to him when on the field. The two guymelefs were often fighting back to back or side by side. One would take down an enemy and the other took the one behind it. This was a completely different attitude in person. The man barely said three words to Van and even then, it was said so soft and low the king had to stretch his hearing to pick up all the syllables.

It was slightly unnerving.

With the last machine crushed underneath the Zaibachian general's sword, this battle was won. The soldiers wasted no time going back to camp, those from Zaibach to drink and congratulate themselves on winning, while those from Fanelia buried the dead and remembered their fallen brethren.

As Van slowly climbed out of Escaflowne, Serena and Ana were there to greet him. Ana had become more timid with another female around, especially one with a smothering personality.

"You did splendidly," Serena purred, clasping her hands in front of her. Ana remained quiet with her head down.

"I killed numerous men. I wouldn't classify that as something 'splendid'," Van retorted flatly, sickened by the very idea. Truth be told, he wasn't as blood hungry as most of the rulers tended to be. He'd much rather stay in Fanelia and live without the petty murders of the battle field.

"But you did it with talent that has yet to be matched. Well, except by General Dilanda." Van gave a glance to the man of who Serena was speaking so fondly. He was jumping down from his guymelef, to the ground, his face mask secure and his black and red armor untouched by scratches or blood.

"Indeed," Van said, moving past Serena with little concern and to Ana, where he paused and asked if she was still doing well.

She hesitated over giving her answer as her eyes flickered from the floor to his shoulder and then came a sheepish, "Yes, brother."

Van nodded and continued to his tent to wash up. Ana had started calling him 'brother' since the beginning of last week. She had been shy about it and made sure it was okay with him. Although he found it awkward, it diluted some of the suspicions a few of the soldiers were having about what the relationship was between their King and foreign Queen.

He just hoped that it put enough of the curious minds to rest to not generate rumors. Those nasty little verbal snakes had a way of always slithering into the wrong person's ear.

* * *

_I've finally lost my mind down here,_ was the first thing Allen thought after cracking open his eyes and looking around his accommodations. The cold, molding walls of his prison had morphed into a nicely decorated and painted room, without a hint of dust on any surface.

It was just like his old room, but vastly more expensively furnished. It appeared to be one of the rooms reserved when royalty visited—royalty King Aston desired to impress with his extensive wealth and extravagant tastes.

This was, for lack of more intelligent words, just weird.

Shaking off the thoughts, Allen sat up in the bed, his tired mind and weary body protested he should lie back down and steal about another forty nights of rest. Since the beginning of the knight's imprisonment, his muscle bulk had decreased, and his body weight had slumped considerably. Allen wouldn't eat the food they served the prisoners and his body suffered the consequences. Those dishes seemed to be made by a maid who was practicing cooking. Perhaps it was a nearly blind maid who had no tongue or consideration to her poor victims to test the food on dogs beforehand.

Maybe it was just a food sadist? Maybe she got her jollies from tormenting unsuspecting, starving prisoners. Maybe it was a form of torture all in of itself that Aston had started for Allen's sake.

Allen's attention was quickly redirected from a maid who may or may not exist to the light knock on the double doors. The politeness of a knock was something that was foreign to the long-time prisoner. In the pits and shadows of the castle, nothing was to be done in the cells the jailors did not see. Humiliation had been driven home several times for Allen. The room with its fine silks, the heavy sent of roses and intricate designs woven into each fabric proved to him again he was indeed out of the hole in the floor known as the dungeon.

Before he could get his scratchy throat to make a single syllable, the second Princess of Asturia- now their _only_ princess- came through the door. Two heavily armed guards clanked in behind her and stood on each side of the two doors as Eries drew closer.

"Ya-" Allen cleared his throat, trying to get his voice to behave. "Your majesty," he strangled out, his throat dry and stuck together from lack of liquid.

Understanding, the princess went to a side table and poured him a small glass of water from the pitcher left there for when he awakened. As she walked to him, the blonde male noted the princess had evidence of hard times on her face—dark circles that had been unable to be hiden under any type of cream or cosmetics. There was also a slight disarray of her clothing, as if she had been distracted while putting them on or had spent more than just one day in them.

Gratefully Allen accepted the glass she offered to him and emptied it in a single swallow. With his throat wet, he was able to voice the questions fumbling around in his mind.

"Why am I here?"

"Because we realized that we mistreated a Prince," Eries said slowly and quite unconvincingly, "A Prince of a very respectable country."

Just because he had been locked in a dungeon didn't mean he hadn't _heard_ things. He always listened intently when the guards murmured about the guymelefs being stolen, which was followed immediately by the destruction of Slena, and then when they had sounded fearful about the 'alliance'. _Who_ or _what_ the alliance was about, he wasn't sure, but it scared guards and that said plenty.

"The truth," he requested in a stern tone.

Rolling her shoulders back and tipping her chin higher, Eries stated in her calm voice, "We've decided to release you."

Allen shifted until he sat on the side of the bed with his legs over the side, bare feet on the ground, and rolled the empty glass between his hands as he thought about her simple words. Instantly granted freedom was suspicious, but the emotionless way she disclosed such information gave him cause for concern.

"Just like that?" Allen questioned. Just because he was a blonde didn't mean he was stupid. There had to be a catch. Aston hated him and wouldn't let him go just like that.

"There is _one_ condition." The princess stepped closer. "We wish for you to accompany Prince Chid back to Freid."

His blue eyes enlarged considerably. Surely she had to be joking or was he delusional? Maybe all that gruel and grime he ate and lived in for so long had seeped into his brain and was creating odd images. Perhaps that sadistic maid he had created earlier was actually gifted in potions and poisons and this was some type of side effect to them.

"Why me?" Allen tried to stand, but found his legs rather uncooperative and only managed to stand for a few seconds before landing back on the bed. "Why now?"

"It will show good faith to Freid and to Zaibach. The Princess of Zaibach is most insistent about your release. This way you will be free, but not aiding your country in destroying ours," Eries' tone became sharp and worried, with a shade or two of disgust.

"I would never do that," Allen stated seriously, trying to stand again. His legs, being rather stubborn, buckled, and he returned gracelessly back to the mattress. "I told you before; I am loyal to Asturia, the country of my birth, and not Zaibach."

"As-_reassuring _as that is, Allen, we will have to insist."

With a skeptical eye, he studied the princess from head to toe, and then back down again. Turning his eyes to the two guards and giving them a once over, Allen had a strong sense trust was an issue. Why entrust such precious cargo with someone who is considered a traitor? If anything happened to Chid, he'd be held responsible. If anything happened to his own person, Asturia might as well call it quits.

Serena was nothing if not consistent in her affection to her brother and determination to create her own way in life. That cold realization made the blonde shiver. Unwanted images flittered across his mind's eye, causing his stomach to lurch violently.

"Do you agree?" Eries pressed, "We must know soon."

"I want to take Prince Chid back on my ship. Also, along with all my old crew, and there are to be no Asturian guards aboard other than those who happen to be _part _of that crew." Allen pinned her with a steady, serious stare. "Is it agreed?"

Eries shifted her eyes away from his. Nervousness and doubt tickled her stomach in a distracting manner as she thought over the new requirements of the plan. Though it had to be revised, the original idea could still work. Steeling herself, she allowed her gaze to return to the knight's.

"Very well, you need to get dressed and be gone before sunset tonight."

Allen watched Eries leave, waiting until the door shut before he sighed and tried his rebellious legs again. This time they accepted his weight- with a bit more protest, but he won out after a moment. First thing was first, he smelled like a dead dog that had been in the sun for three days-he was going to take a bath!

* * *

Hitomi brushed her hair back and pinned it with a small barrette. After fixing her hair in a suitable manner, she tugged on her dress. She had worn the same dress twice already this week but there was very little that still fit her properly. Under Armand's ever watchful eye, she had been reducing her sweets to make sure the few dresses she did fit didn't become too snug.

The knight had literally snatched her baked goodies from her hands and ate them. _He _said it was in order so she would not completely lose her boxy figure. Hitomi had a suspicion the knight was using her as an excuse to eat anything he wanted that was on _her_ plate.

Sighing, the Queen rose to her feet intent on leaving the bedroom to start trying to tackle her ever mounting problems and paperwork. Not _all_ the town found it agreeable the farmers should be taken from guard duty to do what it was that they did best. She felt no need to tell any of the other people that this 'farming' duty also was guarding. The farmers were on a strict order to report from all points three to four times a day. If they missed one of their marks, they'd be responsible for the havoc and fear that would doubtlessly ensue.

Shaking her head, Hitomi gave a small smile when she realized she was starting to sound like Armand—even in her thoughts. Perhaps she should spend less time around that constant headache causing maniac and more time in her paperwork.

Her green eyes rolled to the ceiling as that thought made her feel the burden of her situation again. Oh yes, that would work. Dive into work twenty-four seven and forget about everything. Faint and throw up again from exhaustion. Gain twice her current weight by her 'stress' induced eating habits. All that would surely help, Hitomi remarked sarcastically in her mind.

There was only a heartbeat of waiting between the quick knock and the door being thrown open by the ever giddy and questionable knight.

"Good morning!" he chirped, looked over his shoulder, and motioned with his hand.

Hitomi's eyebrows quirked.

"What's this?" she questioned as two of the butlers deposited a rather large trunk in the middle of her room.

"Why it's a dead body _naturally,_" Armand dead panned. He flipped the latches off and the trunk's lid moaned in disuse as it opened. "I have brought you a new wardrobe of blindingly beautiful dresses."

"Why?"

"Because everyone would frown upon you if you ran around in a saddle," he quipped. "Now!" He reached in and pulled out the first dress. It was silver with small red prints around the bust. Quickly he laid it across a nearby chair and allowed the blonde to inspect it.

"It's so old fashioned," Hitomi pointed out in a slightly disgusted voice as she ran her fingers over the smooth fabric of the gown.

Armand clicked his tongue, crossed his arms behind his back, and cocked his head to the side.

"When, my royal rag doll, were _you _given such deep insight into the realm of fashion? The closest thing I will let you ever acknowledge is that you have sported, at one time or another, every fashion faux pas known to man and some to women."

He laid out the rest of the gowns on the bed and over available chairs to let her get a feel for her supposedly new clothes. Her remarks stayed steady of them being old fashioned and oddly shaped.

"They are not _old_ as much as they are _classic_."

She snorted at that explanation.

"You can't really expect me to wear these."

"I most certainly _do_. Unless you wish to disgrace all of Fanelia with your tattered little dress you've worn how many times so far this week?"

Hitomi made no reply.

"Now try these on, I dare say you will find them more comfortable than the current embarrassment you are wearing."

Huffing, she snatched the first dress he had laid out and went behind the dressing screen. Removing the dress she had only put on a few moments earlier, she tossed it over the screen. Shimming into the grey one, she felt annoyed that he was right. The 'classic' design gave a snug fit across her chest, when properly laced up in the back, and flared out slightly below the bust.

Unable to tie the lacing in the back, she peeked around the corner of her screen and started to call for the knight. The words died in her throat. There was only a very few times she recognized Armand as human and not some sort of snarky parasite who lived to suck out all the energy and self-esteem from those around him. His hand was softly caressing one of the dresses draped over his left arm. His face which was normally smug and triumphant now held such a raw sadness and longing, she felt her heart tighten.

Ducking behind the screen she cleared her throat and called him in a voice that was none too steady. It was like reading his private journal to look at him like that. Sure he had stripped and dressed her before, but that was nothing to the heart.

"I can't get it to fit properly."

"Dear gods," came the normal smugness and contempt, "don't tell me you can't fit these either!" He came behind the dressing screen and studied her. "Everything seems all right enough."

"It's too loose at the top," she pouted, hooked the bodice with her finger and pulled it away to prove her point.

"I would say you would grow into it, but I would hate to instill false hope."

"It just needs to be laced up in the back," she grumbled, turning around to let him do what needed to be done.

"Are your arms too thick to reach around to your back?" he asked in his ever mocking voice. "I told you many times that gravy wasn't a drink."

"Just lace them up!" No matter what he said or how he looked, she had seen something she was pretty sure he didn't want her to see. There was an underlying sadness to this frustratingly, sarcastic, and frankly annoying man. Hitomi couldn't help herself from wondering why and what had brought about such a tragic air.


	43. Suspicious Minds

**Chapter 43**

* * *

"I'm here to deliver a letter to his majesty and I'll whoop each and every one-a-ya if ya get in my way!" The crazy old codger swung his walking stick around viciously at the soldiers who merely came to ask him if he was lost.

"The man is insane."

"It's those mushrooms in the forest, I tell you. They aren't fit for human consumption," one of the foot soldiers whispered to another who nodded in agreement. "Maybe Zaibach is trying to kill us with them."

The first glared over at the other and huffed, "You think _everything _strange is Zaibach trying to kill us."

"Don't ignore me you vagabond pups!" The messenger stepped closer, stick tightly in hand. "Show me to the king or I shall introduce you to your dead relatives."

"Is he serious?" the first soldier asked, incredulous that this uppity little troll would have the nerve to talk to soldiers in such a way.

"Take that!" the man flipped his stick straight and jabbed the first soldier in the gut. Retracting it before the man double over in surprise and pain, the man raised the stick up and brought it hard against his shoulder.

"Teta!" the second soldier shouted in surprise as the little man held the stick in his rough hands and glared at the second soldier. "You little ogre!" the second solider drew his sword and was prepared to fight the ugly little creature before him.

Just as both started in a battle ready position, both growling and cursing in their minds a voice broke up their would-be battle.

"What is all this?" as if the shadows took form, Dilandau emerged and was barely heard over the groans coming from the soldier who was still on his knees and rubbing his sore shoulder. "Who are you?"

"I'm here to talk to the king," The messenger barked proudly and defensively. He held his cane in one hand and tapped it on the other. The second soldier finally sheathed his sword and began to aid his friend, all the while giving nasty looks to the old toad.

The black and red metal face plate revealed nothing to the men who watched him. It was with a slow, steady head to toe look the man finally nodded.

"I know of you," the knight stated, "Follow me, I shall show you to the King."

With a rather superior, self-serving expression, the messenger took great pleasure in walking by the two patrolling soldiers.

"Whipper-snappers," The man added snidely.

"Senile old fart," the second man muttered under his breath. The snap of the stick was heard before a rather loud 'ouch' followed it. The old man threw down his walking stick and stalked off after the Zaibachian knight, while one soldier rubbed his shoulder and the other one rubbed his head.

It was coming on the eighteenth week of war, the battles were becoming bloodier the further they pushed the Asturian borders inward. Dilandau, the messenger noted, and his clothes seemed immaculate as if he had never even heard of war much less fought in one. The old man might be many things but naïve wasn't one of them. His gut feeling was never wrong and his gut was telling him something was fishy about this man in front of him.

"What brings you out this far from Fanelia?" Dilandau questioned. His voice was lower than before and as they walked amongst the packs of soldiers. Some stared at the odd couple with fear why others had lazy curiosity.

"I never said that's where I was from, boy," the old man quickly pointed out. "How'd ya know?"

"I recognized you. I told you that."

"How did you? I thought ya never set foot _into_ Fanelia, from what rumors say."

"My comings and goings aren't always marked. Nobody knows what face lies behind this mask," Dilandau replied smoothly though in an arrogant tone. "What news did you bring of Fanelia?"

"Like I'd tell the likes of you, Zaibachian-pig." The man puffed out, and the knight gave what the messenger could only guess was a side glance of question or annoyance. For the rest of the short walk, the men spent it in silence. After Dilandau had taken the time to announce the messenger's presence to the guards on duty in front of Van's tent, he left.

The old man watched him through distrustful eyes. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something was wrong with that man. Something wasn't _natural _about his actions.

Meanwhile, in the tent three royal persons sat around the table for their dinner. Ana had been painfully silent, her breathing coming in almost agonizing sounding breaths. Van silently chewed his food, his mind consumed by the thoughts of tomorrow's battles and strategies. Serena sipped a glass of wine, her tiara firmly in place as her eyes never left the King's thoughtful face.

The guard quickly bowed and announced the messenger. When the old man came through the tent flaps, Van's eyebrows shot up in surprise. The ancient person, he knew, was one of Armand's most trusted allies and someone who had worked for the knight many a year.

"Your majesty," the man bowed low, showing his deep respect to the other man. He straightened and gave a side glance to the two women. "Ladies," was his only acknowledgement of the females.

It boiled Serena's blood to be played off so casually, but she remained silent though her finger now tapped the side of her glass impatiently.

"Tuc," Van nodded at the man, "What news do you bring?"

Fear began to take a rather heavy hand to his stomach and heart. What if something happened to Fanelia? To _Hitomi_? What if she was dead or dying?

_Gods_, Van thought, _why must I always assume the worst?_

_It saves time_, another voice answered the first one and he quickly shut both of them out.

"I don't knows your majesty," Tuc produced a folded document and handed it to the King. It was done just as Armand had instructed three days ago, from Luc's hands to the king's with no one touching it in between. Perfect. "That there was writtin' by Sir Decri himself."

Placing the document down on the table, not wanting to read it too closely to Serena or Ana, he politely requested the man to stay and to eat since the long journey must have been tiresome. The man gladly accepted and was shown out by the guard to one of the Fanelia soldiers' settlements.

Serena eyed the parchment carefully; a plan blossomed in her mind to retrieve that document should Van not willingly allow her to see it. Her blue eyes flickered to Ana's hazel ones, and after a brief moment of holding each other's gaze, Ana looked away; defeated.

To this, Serena rose an eyebrow of confused interest.

* * *

Armand could never remember being in such a painful position in his _life_. That was saying a lot having been trained under his father's unforgiving ways since he was old enough to make a fist.

The bed was large and comfortable; the sheets were freshly washed as the pillows were cuddly and supportive. Normally in the peaceful setting such as this, he would have been as happy as a cat napping in the sun. Except there was no sun and he was no cat. He was, in fact, on the bed of the royal couple of Fanelia.

With one half of that couple.

Who happened to be the Queen of his home country.

Who happened to also be clinging to his waist rather tightly as he shifted uneasily.

Who also snored.

Armand felt the muscles in his shoulders tighten even more as she muttered something in her sleep and moved her hand up.

_At least it wasn't down_, he thought with shallow optimism.

She'd behead him if she woke up groping him. It would be _his_ fault without a single strand of doubt in her eyes. _Everything_ had been his fault as of late. From the headaches she had endured because the clicking of his heels as he paced outside the office door to the putrid smell of butter.

_Who_ could even _smell_ cold butter?

The woman was insane and she was going to make sure she didn't take that trip alone apparently.

Grumbling, the knight tried to shift away from the clinging Queen. In retaliation for his attempted escape, Hitomi slowly drew her leg over his.

Armand bit his tongue to prevent a small whimper from escaping from his throat. All that he needed was the King to come thundering through those doors and see his knight in the same bed with the Queen. Oh yes, that would be _so_ easy to explain and yet so hard to after Van had strangled him with his bare hands.

The poor knight squirmed, trying to keep his mind from wondering too much about the warm female body beside him. Though he was loyal to King Van and the Queen to a fault, he was, after all was said and done, still a man and prone to stupidity when a female's body was pressed against him with an improper closeness.

He thought of his mother, six sisters, and their batch of bratty boys and giddy girls. His mind went over and over the Fanelia anthem until he felt drowsiness settle on his mind like a gentle veil. Struggling to keep his eyes from closing, Armand knew when he was defeated and he finally decided to just _rest_ his eyes.

The 'rest' slipped into a few moments and perhaps longer had Hitomi's hand not snaked up higher on his chest to exposed skin, Instantly the knight gave a quiet 'eep' and was wide awake, fear pumping in his heart.

The same pinkish glow came from the pendant around Hitomi's slender neck. The tear shaped pendant came to life, Armand noted some time before, almost every night. He thought it was a trick of firelight but now he knew it was its own light.

Carefully, he took her untrustworthy hand and gently put it back at her own side. She muttered and began to release him. Armand, thankful for the slight release, started to wiggle himself from her loosen grip, but didn't get very far.

"Van…" Hitomi whispered in a sigh.

Armand nearly went pale and green at the same time. If she started to think he was Van, there'd be no stopping her so-far innocent hands from becoming rather distractingly naughty. Then came the other thought that he should have to endure her sighs and calling out her lover's name as he lay with her. His stomach lurched and his mind decided he could just not wrap his good sense around it.

Whatever peaceful dream she was having must have dissolved rather quickly.

There was a violent twist of her head, eyebrows knitting together in concern.

"Van..?" Even though in a heavy sleep, she questioned him softly.

Armand thought this was perhaps from her condition of nerves and other delicate things occurring, but when she started to cry out Van's name, the knight felt positively petrified.

As soon as he had finally broken all contact with the Queen, Armand heard her breath quicken as if in distress. She started to thrash about, kicking at a person whom only she could see. Over and over she screamed out for Van, warning him in broken sentences and haphazard words.

Finally not able to bare the noise any longer and afraid of what the other servants would think was happening behind the bedroom door, Armand went to the other side of the bed. Sat down next to her, he placed both hands on her shoulders, and gently shook her.

"Your majesty," he started softly.

Armand's head snapped to the side abruptly, the place beneath his eye but above his right cheek stinging. She had punched him! In her dreams, she had actually punched him.

Grimacing with his displeasure at being hit and possibly bruised by this woman, Armand's grip tightened on her shoulders as he shook her soundly.

"Wake up you troublesome brat!" he barked.

Still she struggled, moaned, and yelled incoherent words.

Desperate times, the knight thought as he drew his hand away from her and gave a gentle yet firm slap on her cheek. When she yelped and screamed out in terror, Armand released her as if she burned.

The pendant began to throb, as if it was a beating heart, and burned brighter with every pulse.

"Damn it, girl," Armand grabbed her again and hauled her torso off the mattress until he had her in a sitting position and shaking her harshly.

"Your majesty!" this time he held little regard for decorum as he shouted those words to her face.

She stilled as her eyelids fluttered open. With wide eyes and a trembling body, she searched the room quickly. Armand let his hands fall to her sides as he heaved a sigh of relief. Hitomi swallowed hard, her breathing deep in an attempt to calm herself. Apparently whatever monster the blonde had seen in her dreams was, to her satisfaction and relief, not currently present in the room.

"Are you all right?" Armand finally asked after she hunched herself over, grasped her pendant and her breathing became even.

"I—saw Van." The brunette forcibly stopped himself from the cut throat comment dangling on his tongue. Of _course_ it had been about the King, she had only shouted his name repeatedly.

"He—was in trouble. Betrayed."

Armand's body went rigid.

Zaibach.

The old man had mentioned Zaibach was now Fanelia's ally, if that was true, then they _had_ to be the one Hitomi saw.

"I'm sure it is just stress," Armand joked, none too convincingly. "King Van will come home triumphant and breathing."

"Van wasn't _hurt_," Hitomi clarified, her eyes meeting the knight's. "He was _betrayed_. They wanted him to be okay-everyone around him-they-all that blood…"

The words trailed off into tears as the queen's good memory and active imagination kept replaying the horrible vision over and over again.

Sighing in defeat at a weeping female, the brother in Armand collected the female in his arms and rocked her slowly back and forth. Her head was tucked under his chin as she clung to his partly opened shirt. They stayed like that until her tears dissolved into occasional hiccups.

"You are such a pain," Armand grumbled, pulling her away from him. She had, during the fit of crying, crawled partly into his lap. Her hands stayed balled on his shirt and the knight felt a wave of tiredness wash over him. Hitomi glanced up with wet green eyes, her cheeks flushed from crying, and her lips were still shaking a touch.

Naturally that's when a worried maid entered the room, took one look at the two and quickly made her apologies.

"I'm sorry your majesty!" the girl blurted out, bowed her head and grabbed her heavy black skirt. "I heard you crying..! I never meant to interrupt! I saw nothing!" After that the girl scuttled out of the room in a near panic.

"What is _with_ women and always jumping to conclusions?" Armand cursed under his breath, rudely standing up and causing the Queen to fall to her feet. "I'm going to catch her before another blasted story crops up." He left with a bang of the bedroom door.

Hitomi stood there, dazed, and not quite grasping everything that took place. Her dream left her weary, the crying left her drained, the maid left her confused, and she felt herself become flustered as she finally understood the implications Armand had made.

Covering her head with her hands, she felt sick as a wave of nausea came over her. The dream had been horrible. Van was on his knees, tears in his proud eyes, and a broken voice screaming as a pool of red seeped from him.

She couldn't understand what he had been saying but the flickers of fire and terrible, horrible laughter of a woman had filled her ears.

_Gods_, Hitomi slumped down on to her bed, _what can I do?_

* * *

"Allen!" Gaddes cried happily, running up to his captain and shaking his hand soundly. "I thought I'd never get to see you again!"

"Hoping to inherent my ship?" Allen joked, a small smile played on his lips.

The man stopped and then started to laugh, slapping Allen hard on the back. "Good to have you back!"

Allen's smile grew slightly before it withered away into a stern line. Stepping off the dock and into the Crusade, Gaddess eyes landed on the very young Prince.

"Uh," the second-in-command started, "What's this about?"

Princess Eries appeared behind the small boy.

"You are taking the young prince home." her voice was etched in ice which made the sailor straighten up slightly.

"Indeed." The knight agreed. "I want to leave as soon as possible." With slightly narrowed eyes, Allen stated this to the princess.

Taking the child by the hand she nodded and asked where the prince would be staying so she could escort him there. When the child and woman disappeared down the throat of the hall, along with the two guards who trailed behind and the shipmate who showed them to the room, Gaddess turned to Allen again.

"What's all this about? We don't see you for months, hear you got arrested and then _bam_ you're free and loved again?" He opened his arms up wide and gave Allen an honest and opened confused look.

"I'm not sure," Allen replied, walking in the direction of the bridge. "But I'm not that foolish to believe King Aston is going to let me go without a single word about it." His blonde eyebrows clashed together. "I've looked this over from every angle, as long as we get Prince Chid home, we should be able to prove our loyalty."

"Why do we have to prove that?" Gaddess questioned, perplexed. "Aren't you one of the heavenly knights?"

"Not any longer," Allen replied gravely. "I have been demoted."

There was a momentary pause as the man digested that information. "Sooo-what are you now?"

"The runaway Prince of Zaibach."

"What!" His mouth flapped open and shut uselessly for a bit before he seemingly collecting himself, but the blonde prince cut him short.

"Make sure the princess and her men make it off my ship." Prince or not, knight or not- he was still the captain of this ship. At least that had remained the same.

* * *

Folken's eyes gave away nothing of what he was feeling as his two warriors bowed before him.

"Tell me, again, what happened?" He asked in his cool, calm voice. The two nekos exchanged looks and then glanced up at their Lord. They repeated the news they had lately discovered and Folken chuckled as he turned and looked out over the land beneath him.

Needless to say, when the prince laughed, it was cause for concern. It was also the cause for the hairs on the back of Eriya's neck to stand on end. Narai was the first to recover and speak up.

"What's so amusing, Lord Folken?"

"You _lost_ Scherazade_,"_ Folken's voice turned from a slightly amused tone to one cold as a stone under an iced over lake. "How is this possible?"

Was this a trick question?

"I don't know, sire," Eriya replied. "It simply went—missing."

_"Someone_ had to pilot it," Folken pointed out in a harsh statement. "Or did it simply animate itself and _walk off_?"

"Of course not," the silver neko answered. "But we could find no trace of it."

"And no one saw anything," he affirmed. "I don't see how this is possible. _All_ the guymelefs are _large_ and hard to miss." Folken spoke mostly to himself, already conjuring up the how it could happen, but no reason as to why. "And you searched everywhere? The surrounding lakes, the mountains and all their caves, fields- _everywhere_?"

"Yes."

His eyes closed as he turned to look at the large encampment of soldiers and guymelefs appearing so small beneath him. The island's shadow covered the troops like a promising cloud of doom. Something was happening down there, something he didn't know and it made him unsettled.

Serena insisted she spend the time down there, in hopes of gaining Van's trust and to make sure Dilandau didn't do anything to ruin the plans. The girl was a touch of insane when it came to details as well as in other areas. Her brilliance was frightening some days, but then it was countered balanced by her disgustingly spoiled ways.

"Who do you suppose is responsible?" Eriya questioned.

"With no clues, no witnesses, it's hard to say." Folken's mouth twisted into a grimace. "But it is rather embarrassing to have taken what we stole."


	44. Prequel of Death

**Chapter 44**

* * *

Van stared at the folded paper resting innocently on his small table. Though his eyes were focused on the letter, his mind was many miles away. A thunderstorm of thoughts was rumbling with emotions, mainly doubts, about what the letter might read.

He had gotten it a few days ago and lacked the courage to open it. It sounded childish and very unlike the actions of a King, but it couldn't be helped. What if it said something so grievous he wouldn't be able to focus in battle?

What if it gave him something more worth fighting for?

What if it said Hitomi was ill?

What if it was just a note to say everyone was fat and happy?

What if it was declaring that another horrible disease had ravaged his lands as it had done years ago?

Van felt his stomach twist and give a vicious lurch.

His hand twitched as he reached forward, brushed the parchment gingerly before he snatched it back as if it burned his gloved fingers. Grumbling, Van climbed to his feet and shook his head.

This was pathetic and, thankfully, he was the only one who had to witness the cowardly spectacle. Deciding he needed to clear his head, Van pushed back the flap to his tent and stalked into the woods surrounding his camp.

A pair of curious feminine eyes watched as he left his temporary housing. A small smile traced over her lips as she stepped closer to the tent and quietly ducked inside.

* * *

Aston leaned forward, his eyes and ears focused on the man before him. The messenger went into great detail of how the war was going thus far. With the missing guymelefs, Sir Allen's imprisonment scaring the soldiers, and the new found alliance of Fanelia and Zaibach, things were looking rather dim for his country. Although there had been no attack on the main city itself, the borders' defenses were proving to be increasingly brittle as each sunset happened.

"Is there any _good_ news to report?" Aston finally asked, frustrated. "Or is the entire report riddled with our misfortunes?"

"I—I'm sorry, sire." The messenger bowed his head. "There is nothing for us to boost about as of yet."

Nodding, Aston released the man to go.

He sat alone in the throne room, the security in the palace had been tripled since the distressing news began, eliminating the riff-raff that tended to float through the palace. The councilmen were required elsewhere to plan and plot.

At his wits end, he had hastily agreed to the proposal his daughter laid down before him days ago. He was, perhaps, a bit too suspicious about letting Allen go and sending him to Freid. All of Asturia's eggs were now in a floating basket with a disgruntled ex-knight.

Well, he cracked a sour smile, maybe not _all_ his eggs.

Heaving a sigh, the man leaned back in his throne. He could not deny this war started when he declared it, but there was no way around the punishment needed to be felt by Fanelia for killing his daughter and son-in-law.

The doppelganger who wore Chid's face was one of Aston's last hopes. When the trickster was discovered, it called for very desperate measures. Such measures required him making some underhanded deals and sanctioning some rather distasteful actions. Innocence was to be lost, distorted, and destroyed in the search for survival of Asturia.

At least that is what the king told himself every night so he could sleep without nightmares.

* * *

Hitomi was livid, her pacing proved that. If that wasn't enough proof, the fact she nearly ripped the feather pillow in her hands apart should have been enough to push any doubter into belief.

She finally realized what was wrong with her, why she felt strange, and found herself without any dresses fitting properly. Naturally she felt like a fool once she figured it out. _How_ could she have been so blind?

_How_ indeed. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she grimaced. She knew _how_ she had missed it. It was because _he_ had told her otherwise. He said everything was stressed induced. When she missed her appetite, had eaten and couldn't keep it down, for three _months_ she missed the painful time of month every female of age had to endure, or why she was losing all ability to wear her own clothes and wore the high waisted ones Armand had brought her. _Everything_ pointed to _him_.

_Armand Decri_ had _lied_ to her-had shamelessly deceived her. She had her doubts everything was stress but why would a knight of the kingdom, who swore to protect king and country lie through his teeth and keep this from her?

There was no plausible excuse.

She was going to either behead him or have him castrated; she wasn't sure which one would be more painful. He had been running behind, insisting she head to her room without him. She was glad he wasn't by her side for these hours. If Armand was next to her, she would have been too distracted with his nonsense to be able to think.

She was already piping mad and she felt as if black swirls of energy should be pouring off her as he opened the door making a remark about a cute handmaid. It was nonsense. _He _was always talking _nonsense_.

"Your highness?" he questioned as he approached her.

Turning quickly, her green eyes narrowed in warning, "How long have you known?"

His eyebrows cocked. "Known what, you'll have to be a wee bit more specific. My knowledge is so _great_ especially compared to you-"

"I'm _pregnant_," she cut him off. "How long have you known _that_?"

Armand's entire body betrayed him. "I have no clue what you are talking about."

"Don't _lie_ to me. That's an order."

His jaw locked, all fun and games was sucked out of the air like cookies from a cookie jar.

"For about six or so weeks."

"And you kept this from me?"

"Would you have been happy if I sewn it on your underwear?" his reply didn't do anything to sooth the hot nerves of the Queen.

"What right did you have to keep this from me?" Hitomi questioned in a deep tone. Armand felt himself straighten up and for the first time, he saw as the Queen she was.

"You should have noticed yourself, your highness," he replied with a flat and emotionless tone. "After all, it's _your_ body."

"Why didn't the healer tell me? He knew, _right_?" Green eyes had flashes of lightening clashing through them, daring him to have the audacity to lie. "And he kept it from me, _why_?"

The knight was silent and he felt strange that he's eyes were burning.

"I told him not to because you were under enough stress without adding this—unique condition to the list. I thought it was best for you."

Hitomi's mouth hung open in surprise. How _dare_ he think like that! He might be her knight, but _she_ was his _Queen_. It was his job to protect her, not to rule her!

"Stop treating me like a _child_," she snapped, hurt and angry. Though they weren't on the best of terms she had come to trust this infuriating man and his ways. A person never had to _like_ someone to trust them, it only helped.

Then when he looked away with guilt etched into his features, she understood.

"You don't think I can do it, do you?" Hitomi questioned, serious. "You think I'm not good enough to be the ruler. Admit it."

Armand hated being forced into this position; he hadn't _meant_ to be caught up like this. If she just hadn't _noticed,_ but then again, his mind sneered, she was _bound_ to at least by the time the labor pains set in. If the King had been here, if there hadn't been a war to fight—then again, the fact he left was probably what prompted him to _know_ his wife.

"Say something!" Hitomi stomped her foot and had her arms at her sides, "Tell me you don't think I'm a failure."

"Don't have the impudence to judge me for harboring the same emotions you yourself obviously have for yourself." It wasn't the truth. He had been amazed by her bravery to take the throne in her husband's absence and so far she hadn't done anything dangerously stupid or utterly devastating. Not killing people or the crops was a positive in anyone's books.

Her green eyes, he thought, should be bright red from all the anger boiling and flaming within them.

"You-you can't possibly think I'm anything like you! I can't have doubts, I can't fail! _You _have been the only failure." It was a ridiculous thing to say, but she couldn't seem to come up with any other thing to throw at him.

Armand bristled, "I'll attribute _that _little comment to your condition."

"Attribute it to _you_ and your attitude. Ever since I've walked through those doors all you've done is tell me what and what not to do, who to be and what to forget about who I was." Hitomi's eyes started to let the tears slide down her cheeks. It was rage, not sadness that prompted them. "I _hate_ you for that!"

"I'm _so_ sorry your majesty, for trying to make you excel in something that is obviously too much for your little peasant brain to digest."

She wiped her tears away angrily, her breathing became ragged. Hitomi attempted to gain control of her haywire emotions and failed with every word dropped from the knight's sharp tongue.

The man huffed.

"No need for dramatics, your majesty," Armand stated, rolling his eyes. "Your short comings are _your_ fault. Not mine. I was merely trying to help you surpass them, but you seem content to wallow in them like a hog!"

"Leave, Sir Decri." Hitomi jerked her head away from his direction, as if disgusted by the very sight of him. "I don't want to see you here."

"-I have orders to protect you," Armand spoke solemnly, his emotions slowly descended to a clam, uncaring mask. "Given to me by the king."

"I have _other_ people who will protect me without _lying _to me. People who aren't so _condescending. _Get out." She only heard his clothes rustle as he took a deep bow and walked to the door, opened it, he looked back over his shoulder, then turned back around with his eyes closed, and was determined not to be anything but her villain now.

"You know, your _highness_, the only reason you are in your condition is because I prompted the king to supply the country with an heir before he left," the man took one step out of the door before coldly throwing a back handed insult on top of the self-esteem crushing injury. "And if I was condescending, it was because you gave me no reason to look up to you." With that said, the man forcefully slammed the door shut.

It took to less time than the slamming of the door for him to wish his last words hadn't been said. Before he could lift his booted foot to his pressed pants, someone beat him to it.

As soon as he made it half way down the hall, a clinking from a tray grabbed his attention and his blue eyes met the stern, unyielding pair of his mother's eyes.

"You did something stupid again didn't you, son?" Rai, who had been delivering Hitomi's dinner, asked with a tired voice. "The doors' echo very loudly because of the lack of furniture."

"She hates me," he stated matter-of-factly.

"And this is a good thing?" Rai inquired. "To have your _Queen_ hate you?"

"_Yes!_" Armand snapped at the older woman as he stormed past her. The knight took the steps three at a time while blocking his mother's voice as she called him back from making good his escape. He didn't know where he was going until he had taken a few things from his room in the castle, stormed out of it, and into the city.

He was heading _home_. It was the only place he _could_ go to be alone and make sure he wasn't going to end up in a fist fight as a way to blow off his immense 'steam'. That _girl_ got under his skin and crawled around shredding every nerve, including his last, then smiled and expected everything to be all right again.

Armand _knew_ he had lied to her when he said he thought she couldn't do the job. How could he ever tell her the truth? He couldn't even be honest with himself in this matter. He _couldn't_ give in to it. Slowly climbing the steps that led to his upstairs apartment, he fought the urge to just kick the door in.

Plunging the key into the lock, he twisted it violently, threw the door open and then pitched the key across his sitting room. With that done, he slammed the heavy door shut, unconcerned with his neighbors being bothered by the noise.

Glancing around the darkened room, though he knew he didn't have to know what was there, he felt the anger and sadness swarm around him. Everything in this home was Caria— from the curtains with the unfinished hems to the arrangement of the furniture. Just like everything at the palace was Hitomi. He wasn't sure how it happened, but it was. Every room held a ghost of her presence to the point he wasn't sure if it was really her or an apparition.

Armand clamped his eyes shut. He knew the two women were just alike in his mind. Caria haunted this home, his memory, and his past while Hitomi seemed to bleed into everything. It almost made him want to forget about hating himself for the first woman just to see what life was like on the other side. Though the temptation was great, there was something always preventing him.

"I _can't_ lose her, too!" Armand screamed, covering his face with his hands as he slid down the front door. _Gods,_ how he hated himself for feeling this way. He'd done everything to prevent it, to fight it; to change what his heart was telling him, but no matter what, it still occurred. The thing constantly pestering his heart, he finally relented an inch and that was all it took to overrule him.

And now she hated him. She couldn't understand his motives and now she didn't care, she hated him.

Was this to be his curse?

It was always like this in the end, he realized bitterly.

He was left all alone with tears stinging his eyes in an empty house.

There had only been two women in his life he truly loved who were not blood related and both ended up hating him. He was left with nothing in the world, but unspoken words of affection and an empty, lonely house.

* * *

Hitomi paced restlessly around her room after his cold words shook her to the core. Tears that had been threatening to fall during their entire confrontation suddenly came in a steady stream down her flushed face.

It wasn't true! She shouted those words in her mind, trying to make them take purchase in her heart but to no avail. Something in her broke and withered painfully. Hitomi knew it couldn't be true. She was overjoyed to learn about her pregnancy then became so mad about being lied to it blinded her from other things. Other things, like nasty truths that she wanted to pretend didn't exist.

Armand could have just been lashing out, targeting her insecurities as he had a knack to do in retaliation for her own cruelty. That _had_ to be it! Van _did_ love her! He _did_. He just had a hard time expressing it!

"_There's something-you have to know,"_ he had started to say something that night, their only night together. _"There is-something I haven't told you-about myself."_

The lump in her throat dropped to her stomach as she stilled her pacing and widened her eyes. Was that what he was going to tell her? That he _didn't_ love her? His tone had been so—hopeless that she couldn't believe it would be anything good. Van was well aware of her own feelings toward him perhaps that was the reason he sounded so forlorn about telling her he didn't.

All that fear and sadness soon mutated into hate for the knight again. He shouldn't have told her! He could've let her have her dreams! Let her pretend Van was out there thinking about her, missing her as badly as she was missing him!

Gripping the skirt of her dress, a thought struck her.

The dresses! Armand had seemed so lost when he had laid all the gowns out, had held each of them tenderly as a little bird. That was how she could pay him back!

With a new resolve, the Queen made her way to the dressing room, flung the two doors open, and gathered the dresses in her arms. In her frenzy of vengeance she didn't hear the door open, nor see Rai enter, and put the tray down on one of the serving tables near the sitting area of the bed chamber.

Marching, arms loaded, to the fire place, Hitomi gave a silent, hateful prayer down to whatever gods of the underground was beaming with pride at her now. This would surely hurt the knight as badly as he hurt her. With a huff, Hitomi swung the dresses toward the large fire.

"No!" Rai's shout startled the woman enough to stop. "Don't!" The older woman was by the Queen's side and snatching away the garments. "What are you _doing_?" She snapped after securing all the dresses.

"Paying him back!" Hitomi shouted in a broken and scratchy voice. The tears and pain brimmed from both her eyes and voice as she grabbed at the clothes.

"No!" Rai insisted, twisting her armload away from the angered blonde. "You can't! Stab him, cut him, but please, your majesty, don't kill him in this manner!"

"Why should I care?" Hitomi asked, her voice dripping with disdain. "What could I possibly do that would equal what he's done to _me_? So I burn his precious dresses. I'd rather go around naked than be caught dead in them ever again!"

Rai backed up; the woman's normal sturdy eyes were glistened as she felt her throat tighten. "Please your majesty…you don't understand."

"I don't _have_ to understand!" Hitomi protested, wiping angrily at her tears. "I order you to give me those!"

The woman retreated further as the blonde came closer.

"I can't. Please, please! Queen Hitomi, please don't do this to him!"

"Do what? Insult his pride by destroying those 'fashionable' things?" Hitomi gave a bitter laugh. "I doubt he'd be affected."

"They were his wife's," Rai's words spilled out quickly as she hugged the precious gowns closer to her chest.

Hitomi understood then why Rai acted in such a way, of _course_ it would be mean to destroy another person's wardrobe. Although it might hurt Armand, it wouldn't hurt _only_ him.

"Then give them back to her," the queen instructed coldly, turning away from the maid.

"She's dead, your highness," The words were so soft Hitomi almost missed them. "So please have mercy." The woman was near tears and a crack away from begging in her voice.

The emotional whirlwind the blonde queen had been riding suddenly came to a mind jarring halt. Then the world started to spin at a sickening rate, Hitomi staggered toward her bed. Covering her mouth to keep what little food she had down, her knees became boneless, and before she was in reach of the bed, she was falling toward the floor.

A pair of warm arms wrapped around her, slowing her fall. Hitomi felt cold and numb as Rai's maternal instinct kicked into high gear. The young woman began to cry, clinging to the woman who offered her the shoulder on which to cry.

Hitomi didn't really know why she was crying, only that it made her feel better. It could be because she was alone, pregnant with the weight of a kingdom pressing heavily upon her shoulders. Van didn't know she was pregnant, how could he? He hadn't been home in months. What would he say?

What if he hated her for it?

Then again, he might love the child and wouldn't that be enough?

_No_, Hitomi answered herself mentally between sobs. She wanted him to love _her_ for her not for what she could do for him, such as bare children. The blonde woman clung to the maid, letting all the past months frustrations out in a long, weakening crying spell.

* * *

"Sir Allen?" Came a nervous voice from the other side of his bedroom door.

"Yes?" the groggy knight replied, sitting up in his bed as the door slowly opened and the head of one of his shipmates poked through the crack. "What is it?"

"I'm here to collect your laundry, sir." The boy was fairly new, but was vouched for by many of the well known men on board. Allen had been suspicious of the new comer, but found his nerves needed to be placed elsewhere for this trip.

Groaning, the blonde fell back on his pillows, throwing an arm over his eyes.

"The clothes are in the small basket near the wardrobe," with that said, the man flipped on his side, turning his back to the intruder.

Quickly, the boy scooped up the basket; quietly he picked up one of Allen's personal belongings and slipped it into the folds of the dirty clothes. Nervous, starving butterflies shivered as they made loops in his stomach.

The knight was blissfully unaware of his upcoming doom and the boy swallowed a rather large lump of fear before leaving the room. He had idolized Allen, but knowing the mighty knight had destroyed the boy's home country-it was just _too_ much. Vengeance was promised at the price of trickery and the boy accepted with greedy hands.

Heaving the basket up, the boy fumbled it into one arm, and tucked his stolen contraband into his shirt.

Now all that was left was to set the stage and then, as she had promised him, revenge for the destruction of Slena would be complete-at least for one of the exiled subjects.

* * *

The Zaibach soldiers no longer let their eyebrows rise as they watched their supposedly 'virtuous' princess make her way from her private tent to that of Dilandau's. They no longer asked questions amongst themselves about what the couple did in the tent for hours on end on such occasions. Any questions naïve as that proved to be almost comical now.

All that was left for them to do was watch the proud blonde go from her tent and without so much as a word, enter into the General Knight's tent. They watched and then made jokes about it. Surely she must know how damaging this was to her reputation! Would anyone ever contradict her virtue if she said it was still intact? No.

They could snicker and point behind her back, but to her face they'd believe whatever she wanted them to believe.

Serena threw the tent flaps back, stepped in, and closed them securely behind her. Dilandau's tent was sparsely furnished with a cot, a small table with two chairs on either side and a wash basin and pitcher of water on it. This lack of furniture and personal belongings offered no type of personality to the knight which was the impression Zaibach wanted to give.

The man himself was laid out on the cot, legs crossed at his heels, and arms behind his head. The helmet he so often wore lay beside him on the bunk.

"Yes?" the man asked, seeing the princess studying him thoroughly. She was attractive, but unendingly eerie. Having her eyeing him was like a vulture watching him in the desert, it knew he was going to fall and die, only the question of when.

"I need you to do something for me," she began, drawing closer to him.

"Get one of your foot soldiers to accommodate you," the man replied, partially sitting up. "I'm sure they'd love to brag to their buddies."

A scathing look was his answer.

"Don't be so vulgar," she instructed icily, but after it was said; her smile reappeared and let her eyelids slide half way shut. "Now that we're alone, do you really want to argue?"

Serena was a very beautiful woman; the knight acknowledged that some time ago, but what he couldn't forget was that this beauty also had a rather bloody side—and that was putting it nicely.

"No, but it's better than plummeting into a bone chilling silence." The man smirked when she closed her eyes, her equivalent to flipping them. "What do you want?"

She smirked, that wasn't a good sign.

Many minutes later, the men posted near Dilandau's tent heard a two groans and began to jab each other in the ribs and chuckle. Shamelessness was often displayed at every turn with this 'couple' and it provided endless entertainment for all of those who knew about it.

"Dilandau's really calmed down since we allied with Fanelia, ya know?" one of the men pointed out to his buddies. "He's not knocking our heads half as much as he used to."

"Maybe the constant fighting and blood satiates his tastes enough to leave us alone."

The first man snorted, "Or maybe the princess is just _that_ good."

The men shared a laugh, but soon the camp fell silent.

The black and red knight emerged from the tent with the helmet once again firmly in place. Slowly, his eyes seemed to go over each and every one of the men's face in his sight.

"Where is Gatti?"

One nervous foot soldier pointed toward where most of the prestigious knights, the handpicked 'Dragon Slayers', camped. Dilandau made no movement for a few beats of a heart, and then, gradually rotated his line of vision to the soldier. With even and unhurried steps, the knight closed the gap, leaned forward and in a stone cold, yet dangerous voice, "Then why am I still waiting?"

The man took off in a flash, pushed through the other men, and made a straight path to the Dragon Slayers' camp. There was a murderous air around the General Knight tonight and none of the men felt the courage to speak up to him. Before anyone could draw a steady, safe breath the knight spoke up once again.

"The princess is asleep," the man said smoothly. "Do not disturb her. If I come back and find she has been disturbed, be prepared to die."

There were no sweetened words that made the threat any more intimidating. Dilandau didn't need any more words to make his point clear; it was all in his unforgiving, severe tone.

* * *

Armand, to say the least, was not a morning person. In fact, he dreaded the dawn and all the warm and cheery people it woke up. The only reason the highnesses thought of him as a morning person was because he figured three grumpy, grouchy people was just not as fun as irritating two grumpy and grouchy people. That thought always caused him to smile, push himself off his bed and start the daily routine that would bring a bed bug such as himself into all his prissy, self-assured glory.

Yet for the last three days things had been different for the knight. Ever since Hitomi finally realized stress wasn't giving her the small belly she sported, he had been in hiding.

_No_, Armand corrected mentally, _not hiding, on a short, mandatory vacation_.

A vacation he needed from that uppity brat. Then there was always the fact that after the rather venomous confrontation she had, quite honestly, kicked him out of the palace. She probably didn't have him _banned_ just kicked out.

Neither of those terms sounded too pleasant now that he thought about it.

He had to go back and face the Queen- eventually. Armand's mother visited his home the previous day and pointed out that it _had_ to be today. Rai asserted this in very colorful and forceful words that were spiced with her stomping and yanking his ear lobe like she used to when he was a child. Armand hadn't been aware his mother even _knew_ some of the more vulgar words she barked.

Rolling out of bed, the brunette stretched and scratched as he rose to his feet. Quickly getting dressed and groomed to his rather high personal standards, he nodded, and left his empty home.

When he entered the palace the guards posted at the gates and within didn't threaten to stab him or try to chase him away, always a good sign. The first person who actually spoke to him was the miffed Merle as they were both heading toward the dining hall.

"Jerk," she hissed and then stuck out her tongue.

Ah, the little kitty cat must have been filled in as to what had happened.

"You heard the good news then?" Armand faked a cheery disposition and fought the temptation to step on the neko's tail.

"Don't talk to me!" Merle ordered, "I'm not talking to you!"

"For _that_ I suppose I should be ever grateful."

That tail nearly flicked itself into a wall as her eyes gave a rather hot glare of infuriation.

As they entered the room, Hitomi glanced up from her plate and held a brief smile on her face as Merle walked in, but it snapped to a frown upon seeing the familiar and currently loathed face of Armand.

"Sir Decri, finally decided to come back to work?" she said testily.

"I am sorry if my presence was missed." Armand wasn't going to give anymore than she did. He might be in the wrong, but he was still a man and had enough dignity (and stubbornness) to refuse to apologize.

"Don't put words in my mouth." Hitomi popped in a few grapes and took a sip of her water.

"The way you're shoveling food in, I doubt there is any room for them in there," Armand replied, his face never failing to wear a bright smile. Both females gave him their best murderous looks. With that said, the knight wasn't as foolhardy as to sit down with the Queen as he normally did, but stood behind her, near the wall.

The rest of the day had been spent in the same fashion of strict decorum. Hitomi was amazed he even stayed the five steps behind her at all times. He offered no conversation and she was in no mood to start one with him. This new Armand and his manners were much more pleasing than the old ones—or so Hitomi originally thought.

By late afternoon, she found his unwavering silence unnerving. He stood there like a frilly gargoyle with a damnable smirk, as if he were laughing at his own private joke and not about to tell a soul what that joke may be.

When dinner rolled around, nothing had changed but the fact that Hitomi was a bit more irritated with the whole situation. Shouldn't he be offering her some sort of an apology? A denial and admittance of the cruel things he said to her? Yet nothing came from him as he took up his position near the wall behind her. Merle found this new and silent Armand rather entertaining as she flicked a few peas at him. Soon enough she became just as frustrated and even bored when the brunette offered no reaction whatsoever.

"At least he's acting like a knight now," Merle said a bit too glumly for someone who was supposed to be hopping mad at the man. "But he's so boring."

"Silence is better than belittlement and _lies_," Hitomi reasoned snidely.

Still, the knight didn't flinch nor did his mouth twitch with reply.

Merle drummed her fingers on the tabletop. The women exchanged a look and both knew that a challenge had been issued. If Armand thought he was so cool and controlled then they'd simply bang and smash every button of his personality until he said something snarky as he was prone to do.

The silent challenge proved to be dinner's entertainment, but with a disappointing result. Armand remained impassive to each and every thing said. After dinner and a short visit to the library to relax, Hitomi announced she was going to bed for the night.

Armand obediently followed her down the now empty halls; it was there and then that Hitomi decided she could take it no longer.

"Say something," Hitomi demanded, at her wit's end. She was still angry with him for lying to her and she needed to hear he was at least remorseful for his treatment.

"What would your majesty care for me to say?" he replied flippantly.

At least he was speaking again!

"Say you're sorry," she said simply.

"I am, your highness, very sorry." The words were spoken clearly yet coldly, lacking any true emotion. She took a step back, realizing he was doing just as she instructed. Armand was being blindly obedient to her, to good manners, and that resulted in a very listless attitude.

It was infuriating.

"Apologize like you mean it! Tell me _why_ you did what you _thought_ you had to do."

"Upon which topic is your majesty referring?"

If she killed him now, she could blame it on her pregnancy. Her hormones were out of whack and given that fact, homicide seemed very reasonable. Not many people who knew Armand and her relationship would say that this was a _new_ type of threat.

"About _me_. About _Van_." The name was spoken in a soft voice. She had lived in the painful knowledge that Armand was probably telling the truth when he said Van did his duty, not what he wanted to do. The king was just as obedient to his position as Armand was now faking his. Proof of Van's loyalty to his country and circumstances was with Hitomi. He had married her, not knowing or loving her, all because it what was deemed best for Fanelia.

"I cannot, in truth, offer you such words," Armand replied after a long pause. "If it would please you, your majesty, I would be delighted in saying such things, but do not hold their falsehood against me."

Infuriated tears welled up in her eyes. The doctor, after having been told not to hide the truth of her situation from her, said that yes, she indeed was pregnant, but also suffering from an incredible amount of stress.

"Then tell me _why_ you did what you did." Hitomi gave a firm stare, watery eyes causing some of the effectiveness to waver. "And don't pretend to not know what I'm talking about this time."

A long minute passed by before the knight gave a heartfelt sigh.

"If you truly wish to hear it."

Finally! Hitomi rejoiced inwardly, he was showing _some_ sort of emotion!

"The reasons for my silence is easy, I was acting in the best interest of the kingdom."

Speechless, she waited for him to continue.

"You're a peasant. You were never trained to rule a kingdom. You still think like a peasant only seeing the small scope of the kingdom. When one is the lowest creature on the food chain, one can only look around in their own lifestyle and seek improvements. You acted on such things.

You are a Queen. You are placed on the top of the order that you should not be condescending but so your point of view is no longer limited to one link in the chain. From the pig farmers to the dukes, you must now consider all the whole spectrum and act in such a way that will benefit and do the less damage to _all_ involved. You have yet to do this." Armand paused, waiting to see an acknowledgement in her eyes.

"With this said, I kept from you the information of your current condition because you would have reacted, not as a ruler, but as a peasant woman. You would have started to be side-tracked from your duties, put under more stress with the knowledge of all you carry within you and that was something I would not let the kingdom suffer."

"But it wasn't your choice," came the automatic reply. "You had no right to decide something like _that_."

"You would have wanted King Van to come back, to inform him immediately, and beg him to return, correct?" Armand asked his voice still as hard as diamonds and lifeless as stone.

Hitomi hesitated, gesturing her hands a bit before sagging her shoulders forward, "Yes."

"Well then, now you know," Armand's voice sharpened. "Are you all warm and fuzzy inside, my Queen? Hmm?" The knight cocked an eyebrow as a bitter line formed on his lips.

She gave him a firm glare. "No."

"Then you are not the masochist I once hoped you would be." With that, he simply wished her a good-night while he bowed low, turned on his heels, and left her alone in the hallway.

She felt—whitewashed. Like a canvas that held such potential and yet, in a few sentences, the one person she loathed the most at the moment had put her firmly back in her place. Hitomi was born and would die a merchant's daughter, no more and no less.

Her emotions of the pathetic nature came to a grinding halt and decided to go for anger instead. Just because one little leech of a person, knight or not, thought she couldn't do it didn't mean she couldn't! It just meant the fancy man was being pessimistic! Well, she'd show him! And if she couldn't, she would pay him to be silent for the rest of his life just so he wouldn't be able to say 'I told you so'.


	45. Burn, baby, burn!

**Chapter 45**

* * *

The hairs on the back of Van's neck stood erect. Even in his sleep, he felt the air become thick with a tangible darkness. This darkness made him wake up enough to realize danger lurked about. It wasn't close enough to strike, but its nearness was undoubted. The King laid on his cot, not twitching a muscle while he kept his breath even and low. There was no reason to let whoever or whatever it was know he was awake.

Without his eyes, he had to stretch his hearing. Given his –curse, Van was a leg up on most people when it came to the senses. It was both a blessing and a hex considering his sense of taste was more acute at times than he wished it was, especially as of late with the horrible camp food.

Van winced a fraction when he realized he was losing focus. He had no desire to die because the food was horrible.

Then he heard it.

The one indication that it _wasn't_ an apparition or a bad dream that made him stir.

A faint crunch of twigs breaking under a foot fall caught his attention like a pretty girl.

It was living and if it was living, it could be killed.

His tanned skin pricked at the easiness of the thought of murder. No, _not_ murder. Balgus and his father always said it was _killing_ in war, not _murder_. Murder was thoughtless slaughter; in war every soldier knew the price.

There it was again!

Another crunch! The thing was to the left of his tent and close to his head. From the muffled sound of the noise, the thing was still _outside_ the tent.

Van's body was ready to leap up and away from danger should it come slicing through the wall of his tent. What he didn't expect was a voice, hushed and low, whispering to him.

"Go home, Lord."

Shifting his hand slightly, knowing he wasn't able to be seen through the thick sheep skin of the tent, the King found and tightly gripped the dagger he hid between the cot and the ground. Should he answer? Would it be wise to let his disguise slip so easily?

"Go home, King," the voice insisted again. "The longer you wait, the less time you'll have."

Van thought it was strange that both times the voice spoke; it showed respect his station in life. Also, the voice _knew_ he wasn't asleep, with that knowledge, the king's maroon eyes slowly opened.

"Who are you?"

"A friend, my liege."

Another name of respect.

"Friends don't hide in the dark," Van pointed out smartly, his voice equaling the same hushed tones as the other person. "Who are you?"

"Fanelia will be destroyed, sire. Go home." The voice pressed, sliding past Van's questioning.

His composure was completely forgotten as he sat up directly in the bed and twisted to look where the voice was the strongest.

"Why do you say that?" Van hissed. "How do I know you aren't an Asturian spy?"

"I know certain things about this, my lord," was the only vague reply Van received.

"If you want me to believe you, and not skewer you on the spot, give me something to believe in," Van reasoned, his eyes narrowing at the spot where the voice was. This person could be a spy, wanting to see Fanelia and Zaibach separated in order to conquer both armies at their weakest.

There was a pregnant pause from the voice and for a brief moment Van thought the person lost their nerve and slipped back into the night.

"The guymelef commanded by Sir Allen is missing from its post. The letter from your homeland has fallen into deceitful hands and the information within it could be used to your disadvantage," the voice seemed hesitant. "Your entire country is about to be demolished and your wife and heir along with it," another pause, "liege."

Van's blood ran cold, "I have no heir."

"Yes, you do," the informer whispered. The voice barely audible as the wind picked up, causing the leaves to rattle on their branches. "The letter would have informed you of such, lord."

"How do I know you are telling the truth?" Van interrogated. If this person was meaning to hit every sensitive spot in Van's heart, they were doing an excellent job. His country, his wife, and the promise of an heir—everything he wanted was possibly about to be destroyed. Gods, had that letter really told him Hitomi was-he couldn't even finish that thought.

"Are you willing to take the chance that I'm not, King Van?"

The answer was quick; Van threw his covers back from his cot, climbed to his feet as he tucked the dagger in his boot. He pushed open his tent flaps and ran around the side to find no one there. A mystery indeed, but that could wait. If there was _any_ truth in what the person said Van had to find out.

It was true he had lost the letter and nearly torn the tent apart in a hunt for it. Coming up empty handed, the King had sunk into his chair and covered his face with his hands. This was the fate of cowards, to be plagued with not knowing. Now, to top it all, off he was stuck with knowing that whatever the letter read was going to be used against him.

Was Hitomi _really_ in that condition? If anything happened to her-the kingdom would grieve and lose their faith in their King to protect them. He couldn't let that happen! Without the people behind their government, there would be no respect and structure. Fanelia would implode and it was because he was too foolish to open a single letter.

Gods, his mind whirled at a sickening rate as he thought of his home country being left as a smoldering pile of blood red and black-gray ash. Clenching his jaw and fists, the King strode purposefully to the main camp and once there, eyed the men both awake and asleep.

"Get to your guymelefs and horses!" Van yelled, the men tumbling out of sleep and off their chairs. "We leave for Fanelia at once!"

* * *

_"Before dawn," _she had instructed him, her blue eyes glittering with dark purpose. _"On the fifth day, you must complete what I've told you_._"_ Those words pumped through his mind at a blinding rate. He could think of nothing else, do nothing else, but hold onto those bittersweet words.

The woman had seemed so sure and severe that he wouldn't refuse her anything. The hate that swirled in his heart, the feeling of treason boiled in his mind made the Slenaian young man choke. He had come up with a way to procure the clothes and obtaining the job had been almost too easy.

The young man shook violently as he gripped his stolen item from Sir Allen's bed chambers. He had never done anything like this, even with the reassurances that it was for the best, it still felt wrong. Wrongness or not, he was still going to do it. Tucking the ill gotten gain in the loop of his belt, the man straightened up to his full height. .

Since none of the men liked to do a 'womanly' chore such as laundry, they assigned the new boy to do it. He had, begrudgingly, taken it in order not to raise any suspicion. It was helpful that Allen had a horrible habit of forgetting to bring his clothes to get washed so there was nothing strange about the boy going in and getting them.

Looking at his reflection, the scrawny boy couldn't even recognize himself in this get up. A dark blue coat, dark pants, and knee high boots. His short honey colored hair was the only thing that tipped any onlooker that he was not the knight in charge of this ship.

Leveling his shoulders, he poked his head out of the room, and checked both directions to make sure the coast was clear. Most of the men were on the bridge, eagerly wanting to see the Freidian boarder and the rest were asleep in their quarters.

This was the perfect time to carry through with what he had been told to do. Fear sat on his stomach, but he ignored it long enough to grasp the handle of the door and turn it slowly. When the door opened fully, he saw a familiar blonde head resting upon his pillow.

With a deep, reassuring breath he pulled out his hidden object that was Sir Allen's smooth and sharp dagger and made his way quietly into the bedroom.

* * *

Gatti still didn't feel right about this. He had gone along with what Dilandau ordered because he had no wish to be tortured violently and then be killed out of 'mercy'.

"Why are we doing this? I thought they were our allies," Gatti did have the nerve to question.

"They are distracted," Dilandau replied, flashing a dangerous grin that was lost behind his helmet. "We need to make our _friends_ more focused."

"What if they find out?

"They will be too busy chasing their asses to figure out we tricked them," Dilandau chuckled. "And if they ever catch on, we'll kill them too."

This was definitely the Dilandau that Gatti had been trained under. Blood thirsty and full of the lust of fight, the fact that most things involved fire was just like icing on the cake to this twisted, demented yet extremely talented man.

"When do we attack?" Gatti questioned.

The red and black helmet turned to face the Dragon Slayer.

"At dawn," Dilandau answered simply. "That way it'll look like the sky is on fire. There is nothing more beautiful than the fire of dawn to set the mode for slaughter."

Chills ran down Gatti's spine as he nodded his understanding and left the General Knight to his own thoughts and ideas.

Dilandau gazed out upon the empty fields where he hid amongst the trees in the thick foliage surrounding Fanelia's capital city. Tomorrow at dawn everything would go up in smoke, the screams of the dying and the charred faces of the dead would be before him again. He chuckled to himself, amazed about his own patience. He had wanted to do this for _far_ too long. Soon Folken would get his brother, get his 'White Dragon' that his seers had seen, and Dilandau would get every ounce of the revenge that was due to him.

Yes, tomorrow would be beautiful indeed.

* * *

Armand curled up on his bed, the small rabbit doll clutched in his hand. He had come back to the castle in order to protect the Queen and because he found his home was still too quiet for his tastes. The royal brat had proven rather vindictive in her ways.

She had allowed him to continue his highly polished ways, but decided that a verbal spat in front of his mother every now and then was amusing. Rai was never one to take any lip from her children and bad manners was doubly intolerable and therefore Armand would get a sound smack from the back of her hand every time he opened his mouth.

His sleep was restless; any little sound woke him within a breath's time. He was used to the sound of the scampering rats and the fall of feet outside his door. What woke him up this night was something much more intense.

"What in the -" the knight cursed fluently as he shot straight up in his bed, losing his balance and tumbling off the side. He landed with a sound _thud_ and grumbled just that much more. The ear piercing screams rung out again, like distant music wafting through the stones and wood into his room.

Jumping to his feet, he shoved his rabbit doll into a pocket before throwing open the door and looking around wildly as the servants fled to the nearest exit. Confusion was in the air and there was no escaping the need to breathe.

"Is Merle cooking again?" Armand asked to no one. Finding that the maids weren't going to stop, he reached out and grabbed one girl by the arm. "What in the seven pits is going on?"

"We are all doomed! The guymelefs are here!" She screeched, wrenched herself free from his grasp, and sprinted down the hall.

Realization hit him like the black smoke snaking down the hall. Snatching the handkerchief from his sleeve, the knight covered his mouth, and ran into the thick, dark cloud. His blue eyes were blood shot, his lungs screaming in pain as he pushed past the running herd and made his way to the woman on his mind.

Feeling along the wall, coughing into his thin, lace mask of protection, the knight staggered haphazardly to the kitchen. There was only one person who was in charge of the breakfast and it was started early enough to make everything fresh, but late enough to keep it warm.

The fire was helping today.

The normally cool, wooden door of the kitchen was in cinders and smoke. His heart leapt into his throat as his coughs tripled in intensity. Try as he might, he couldn't manage to get over, or move the hot fiery debris blocking the kitchen entrance.

"Mother!" Armand cried. Gods, if anything had happened to that woman, he'd never forgive himself. "Mother! Answer me!"

"Ar—man-?" came a weak reply. His eyes slicked with wetness from the smoke, but now the tears started to fall.

"Mother! I'll get you out of there!" He was frantic, looking for any help. Everyone had gone! Everything around him was either roasted or in the process of being so. "Stay put! I'll get help!"

"No!" The violent coughing and weakening voice made the man cringe. "Go to her majesty!"

"No!" he answered firmly. The flames began to lick the sides of the hallway. Armand had to jump back from being injured. The kitchen had to be one giant fire pit by now!

"Get her out of here!" Rai screamed from the kitchen. "Go!"

"Mother!" Armand called out, desperately and began to cough raggedly. "Mother!" There was only the creaking and snapping of the beams answering him. The gut feeling told him to stay, to rescue the woman, but his honor snapped him back into attention.

Tears were quickly evaporated under the intense, orange and red heat.

He had to save the Queen.

"I'm sorry, mother," he whispered out, falling away from the entrance and forcing himself up the hallway.

* * *

Hitomi smiled and rolled over on her back as she felt her skin become moist. It was so much of a quick change that the woman's eyes fluttered open in confusion. Touching her forehead gingerly, she blinked at the sweat she found there. It was sweltering in this place!

Pushing her sheets off her body, she found her entire nightgown plastered to her body as the sweat had soaked through. Staggering to the balcony door, she pushed back the curtains with her head down, unclasped the lock, and pushed open the double doors.

The Queen was expecting a cool breeze but was overpowered by an intense heat that made the air heavy and thick. The sight before her shaved away any sleepiness left in her mind.

The heat was nothing compared to the large, hungry fires that it bred from. The cool gray and brown of the buildings that usually filled the view from the balcony vanished under a thick blanket of bright orange, red and yellow.

She started to shake violently, praying against all odds that this horrible scene was another vision.

It couldn't be real!

The screams engulfed her like never before. Heat that was so intense she felt her skin coat in a thicker layer of sweat. Gripping her pendant, she started to back up and away from the sight.

This couldn't be happening!

"Your majesty!" Armand screamed out as he slammed open the doors.

She turned to see him, but twisted back to the violent scene before her balcony doors.

"I-it's not real."

"The death pits it isn't!" he chided, grabbed her by the arm and hauled her toward the door. The entire palace was catching fire and soon there would be no escape from the higher floors. No way to flee except those who had wings or a grapple to propel down into the flames.

None was likely.

"I can't leave!" she screamed, jerking her wrist free. "I have to stay!"

"This is not the time for insanity!" Armand growled, grabbing her again.

"No!"

* * *

On the outskirts of the dying city, there stood a man with chilled blood and wide red eyes.

He was too late.

Everything the stranger had said was true.

He was too late!

Van stood breathless, immobilized at the sight before him.

Could this be his peaceful kingdom?

Could that be his people whose screams were rising far higher than any flames?

His heart stopped as his breath fled.

The peace he had been fighting to protect was gone in a puff of smoke.

Everything was gone or going.

He fought with the hatred rising like a tide inside him.

Then a snap happened. Shock broke into anger. Suddenly the flames weren't as bright, weren't as yellow. The world faded into just one color before his very sight: blood red.

The very deepest crimson was before his eyes.

With a cry that shook his men from their own stupors, Van launched forward with sword drawn.

The eight guymelefs that were shredding his homeland never saw him emerge from the forest. They never suspected the enraged king would leap into the air; Escaflowne's sword raised high above his head, and with a feral growl split the first guymelef in two. A strangled gargling scream rose from the machine.

Van wasted no time, stepping one foot back he twisted around, and viciously cut an arc through another guymelef.

Die! They had to die! They had to _pay_.

Blood for blood.

Death would leave with his carriage full today!

The Fanelian guymelefs clashed with those of the enemy. More of the strange machines seeped from the woods, swords raised, and battle cries making their throats hoarse.

One of the leading guymelefs charged Van. Through his red haze, he only knew one thing. Revenge. Pushing himself off of one foot, and allowing gravity to pull him down, avoiding a nasty sword strike, the King kicked out his free foot, jabbed the enemy in the "gut" of the guymelef. While the machine and pilot stumbled backwards, Van regained his footing. Before the enemy could collect its center, he brought the sword down swiftly and hard into the face of the machine.

Yanking it free from the face, the pilot's blood coated the blade, but this only spurned the King on.

A razor sharp pain made Van scream out; jerking around, he asked no questions as he brought his sword down. Steel met steel with a_ clash_. A rain of sparks flew from the two blades as both used all their strength to try and push the other's sword away.

_This_ was not the leader.

Van wanted the leader.

Without the head, the snake was useless!

* * *

Dilandau threw his head back and let lose a cold, triumphant laugh. This was just as he pictured it!

Fanelia painted beautiful in red both by the sun and his personal blazes. They never saw it coming! Never suspected for a moment! The farmers were the first to be slaughtered, to prevent warning the kingdom of the presence of the invading army. And now?

Now it was too late and the ancient dance of death was already in motion.

The people fell like flies from the buildings, dropped and screamed as their flesh caught fire and roasted them alive. Children were crying out, reaching out to dead parents who were charred beyond recognition. Yes, this was the grandest time!

"Die! Burn!" he screamed, slicing through another building. Without his personal flamethrower-equipped guymelef, he was reduced to destroying things by a giant metal hand and sword. It wasn't a problem to him, it extended the enjoyment.

"Peasants!"

The heavy _thud_ of a metal soldier caught the knight's attention. Wrenching his head around, the light haired murderer watched in horror as one of his DragonSlayers fell to the ground, dead. Then another. The third held out longer, but soon was overcome by the opposing guymelef.

It was like a very demon was set upon them!

Through narrowed eyes, Dilandau hissed out the name in recognition: "Escaflowne."

_Three_ of his men, dead! How dare that backwater brat kill his men!

Grinding his teeth together, Dilandau twisted his head back to the original direction he had been facing.

The palace.

So far it had remained intact.

With an ear to ear psychotic grin, the man stomped through the remains of the city, crushed the fallen walls and those underneath them without care. The lowly wretches could wait. If Van wanted to play mean, then Dilandau would define it for him.

* * *

Hitomi let out a scream that made her blood evaporate in fear.

One of the largest blades she'd ever seen crashed through her balcony door. She was forced backwards, tripping over her own feet. Landing with a _thud_, she moaned, knowing her back was going to be bruised.

The large metal face of the guymelef filled her vision. It seemed like a demon, the face illuminated by the fiery city behind it. It was a despicably awesome sight.

But one that was short-lived as the other hand reached out for her.

Screaming again, Hitomi tried her best to scoot away from the ominous metallic digits.

"Your majesty!" Armand shouted.

The giant sword withdrew, breaking the floor as it fell free. Launching himself from his current position, the knight tackled the Queen. In the next moment, he had his sword drawn and met the hand halfway. An angered scream rang out from behind the mask as the hand drew back quickly.

Armand grunted as he sheathed his sword and scooped up the woman before the pilot recovered. Hitomi was in a state of shock. The knight ran from the flames and the sword that was bound to follow them. There was a secret passage from the palace to the cliffs and from there to the forest beyond.

The man screamed out in pain, dropping the Queen.

The large sword withdrew from the window it had smashed.

Laughter, insane and mirthful, rang out.

Blood oozed from his arm, his blue eyes scrunched together.

"Ar-Armand!" Hitomi squeaked out. She reached out for him, to aid him.

Armand grabbed her wrist and shoved her away violently.

"Get out of here!"

The sword came smoothly through the window again. The brunette threw himself down on to the ground. He hissed in pain as the heat from the fire eating the floors below came through the floorboards.

The free hand joined the sword in the window and it pushed against the stone and wood. With angry snaps and groans, the wall around the window began to give away.

"Damn it, girl!" Armand bellowed, crawling away from the destroyed wall. "Get out of here."

She reeled backward, eyes wide, and searched around for an escape.

"Where?"

"Behind the family portrait down the hall, there's a door. Follow the paths! Now _go_!" Armand ordered.

She nodded and started to sprint in the direction she was told. Turning around quickly, she opened her mouth to scream at the knight but there was nothing. The floor, ceiling and guymelef were gone. Tears burned in her eyes as she backed away. Shaking her head, Hitomi turned around and continued her escape route.

* * *

Van had turned, too late, to see _Scherazade_ ripping a hole in his home. The king had a fairly good idea what part of the palace it was.

The bedchambers.

The fire in his blood began to boil… then, in a snap, it turned to ice.

That _bastard_ was after Hitomi!

Leaving his men to finish off the other soldiers, the raven haired king slammed himself shoulder-first into the back of the guymelef. The already fragile structure of the palace couldn't bear the abuse and collapsed in on itself.

The moan and cracking of the crumbling buildings disappeared.

The screams of his people faded.

Nothing could be heard but the pounding of his own heart

The invading guymelef screamed and pushed back with an unexpected force that knocked Van off balance.

Stumbling backwards, the King cursed under his breath until he got his footing.

Scherazade sliced in an upward arc when the pilot recovered. Van met steel for steel as the machines clashed.

_He's good_, Van thought bitterly, unable to deny he was impressed, _But then he was taught by one of my knights. Balgus._

That sickening truth made Van charge with unprecedented aggression.

"DIE!" Came a battle cry from the guymelef. Van clenched his teeth together and barely missed receiving a sound kick to the midsection.

This odd move caused him to strike at an awkward angle, slashing the guymelef's mask across the right cheek.

From the shriek that echoed out of Scherazade, it sounded like a killing blow.

The Asturian guymelef remained still, its hand raised to the gash on its metallic face.

"You—you _bastard_!" the pilot screeched. "My _face_! You scarred my beautiful face!" The fury blocked out the strangeness of the voice that came from the guymelef. It was familiar, but it wasn't the Asturian knight. The difference wasn't ever noticed as the two came to blows yet again.

All skill bled out from the challenger.

As the two guymelefs clashed, Van steadily got the upper hand.

Even through his haze, he noticed the increasing erratic actions from his opponent.

The man was barely able to block Van's sword as it was continuously brought close to the metal soldier.

With one strong thrust of his sword and the unseen punch of the hand, Scherazade tumbled back.

Van seethed at the monster. This _thing_ had taken his kingdom, his wife-_everything_.

Blood. Only blood for blood would repay the debt.

Raising his sword for a killing blow, Van cried out in pain.

Sir Gatti grunted as he pulled his sword from Escaflowne's back.

Growling, Van turned and with one rapid slice of his sword, the guymelef split in two.

Both pilot and machine went down in a useless heap.

Twisting around to finish off the leader, Van howled in frustration when he saw the Asturian guymelef was missing.

Gone! Just disappeared like a ghost!

"This isn't over!" Van screamed out at the rubble, knowing he would be heard whether or not he could see Sir Allen.

* * *

Allen stood stock still and mouth agape.

In the middle of the room stood a man-the "boy" he had been so wary about had proven to be everything he could hope he wasn't.

There, in his gloved hand, was the bloodied dagger. The knight instantly knew it was his own. The gold with sapphire accented handle led to no other conclusion.

"Wh—what have you done?" Allen managed out.

Slowly, the man turned around. The face was haunted; no emotions and dead eyes. If he hadn't been breathing, Allen would have sworn it was a reanimated corpse before him and not a living human.

His blue pants were soaked with blood from the knee down to the top of the black and gold boots. The rest of his outfit was speckled with crimson, as well.

It was all fresh. The smell of iron, of _blood_, was so strong Allen had to cover his nose with his hand. He felt ill.

"I've paid you back," the man's voice matched his eyes, cold and lifeless.

"B-but _Chid_!" Allen pressed, stepping into the horrible bloody room. "Why did you kill _him_!"


	46. Broken Secrets

**Chapter 46**

* * *

Armand blinked, his eyes instantly started to burn and tear, trying to remove the ash that had fallen in them.

"Damn," he managed to get out in a scratchy voice. Grunting, the knight pushed himself off the ground. His head was spinning, his body ached, and his every nerve was raw. The memory of why he was in such a knocked around state came to him painfully.

When the guymelefs decided to destroy the walls, they instantly crumbled like a sand castle on the beach under the waves of an angry ocean.

The knight had only a few precious seconds to react when the walls started to dissolve in order to save prized behind. Throwing himself as far as he could, he had scrambled to the nearest room and ducked inside. The door, floor, and other parts soon gave away, but he had survived somehow.

Perhaps it was the pure energy pumping through him that caused the desperate man, bent on self preservation, to leap from the window into a nearby tree. He was no neko and had a rather bumpy and painful ride down the tree until he landed in a heap at the trunk.

Rubbing his eyes free of debris, he blinked away the blurriness, and finally saw what was left of the palace. It robbed him of his breath as his blue eyes grew, the entire thing was left in a state of useless stone and charred wood. Hundreds of years of Fanelian history were gone.

His stomach wrapped around his spine, trying to keep him from dry heaving. Clambering to his feet, Armand noted that his right arm and left leg should be attended to before long. Leaning on the base of the tree, he stopped to focus on the present situation.

The knight wouldn't think about the destruction, the loss of probably all of his friends and his mother, but he would think about the reconstruction. The first step in that direction was to find the ruling party, which meant the Queen. The king would want to know she was alive and well. If she hadn't been abused too much with the battle, then the heir would survive to see its birthday. Everything would be fine as long as they were okay.

Groaning, the brunette secured his sword and hobbled away from the tree. If she had listened to him, which would be a rare occasion, she would have ended up coming out of the old cave entrance that was two miles away from the old orphanage.

With a bad leg, it was going to be a very long trip.

* * *

Sir Allen had his fingers steepled together in front of his face as he was leaned forward, his blue eyes distant and calculating.

He should have known Eries was setting him up. That's all that it was when he had been set free, a setup to take another fall. The 'boy' who did laundry had proven himself to be a traitor and tyrant, but the knight needed answers. Answers only the murderer had to offer.

"Bring him in," he instructed with an icy voice. There were a few grunts from the two men of the crew who dragged in the bound man and deposited him at Allen's feet. After requesting for everyone else to leave, the blonde wasted no time with formalities or pleasantries toward the man, "Who are you?"

The murderer made no smirk or smile, but sent a look that would have frozen the flames of the underworld.

"Don't you recognize me you slaughtering ass?"

Allen's shoulders tensed slightly.

"You are the one accused of murder. I'll ask you again, who are you?"

"Does it matter?" the man sneered.

Allen wagered at one point in this man's life he might have been a kind hearted, joking sort of man. Whatever happened to him to twist him into a killer must have been great.

"Yes." came a sharp reply. "You are charged with murder of the Prince of Freid, Chid zar Freid."

"That 'Chid' was an abomination," The man spat, disgusted. "You knew and did nothing about it."

A firm grimace etched into the knight's mouth.

"He was a tool of peace which you have shattered. I would not have let the doppelganger do anything in Freid. I would have exposed him after the war."

That elicited a cruel laugh from the prisoner.

"_You_ want peace? Oh, that _is_ rich."

Ignoring the comment Allen pushed ahead. "You will be taken back to Asturia and tried for murder."

"I have done nothing," the man lied. "It was _you_ who murdered the young prince. The blood is on _your_ clothes, on _your_ boots, and it was committed with _your_ blade."

Blue eyes narrowed threateningly.

"Who are you and what offense have I committed to make you act out in such a way?"

The man bowed his head forward slightly, his eyes devoid of any warmth of feeling.

"I am Coron Zer Slena, _king_ of the country of Slena. The one you _butchered_. I don't give a damn about anything anymore, but making sure you end up dead. You took everything from me. My wife, daughter, and kingdom I didn't care if I had to kill the _real_ Prince to make you suffer as long as you die."

Shock pushed Allen back in his seat. King Coron had _survived_? Dear gods no wonder the man seemed like animated flesh. The blonde knight had been informed that it was his _stolen_ guymelef that led the charge on Slena, but all reports stated no survivors.

Shaking himself out of his stupor in front of his prisoner, Allen tightened his expression.

"You will go back to Asturia and be dealt with accordingly there, King Coron." With his natural grace the blonde drew up to his full height, and looked down at the man on his knees.

"You really think they are on your side _Zaibachian _dog?" Coron spat out. "Who do you think told me what to do and how? They would sooner rip you from the skies before letting even a strand of your hair back in Asturia."

Balling his fists tightly, the man strode past his captive, and out the door. He shut the wooden door with a resounding _bang_ and stormed down the hall to his personal chambers. As he passed several of the men and ordered that he was not to be disturbed.

There was a war to win, a plot to unravel, and the last thing he needed were petty distractions.

* * *

Folken always considered himself a cool, calm, and collected man who was hard to anger and even harder to make furious. It was unbelievable what the couple before him could do. Serena stood to his left with her arms crossed and blue eyes boring into his. Dilandau was to the right, arms by his side, silent and impassive.

"How could you do this!" It wasn't a question as much as a statement of disgust. "I gave you no order to do _anything_ such as this."

"You wanted him to be with us one hundred percent, I gave you that," she replied flippantly, though coldly. "He has nothing to distract him or make him soft now."

"You are not the one to take charge for such things. You had no right to ignore my orders," Folken replied acidly, using their height difference to his advantage as he towered over the woman.

"Dilandau is _my_ creation, my tool." She gave a chilling smirk "I tell him to jump and he asks off of what cliff. He's a soldier. Soldiers seek blood." Turning toward the silent man, Serena tilted her head to one side. "Isn't that right my pet?"

Dilandau didn't flinch.

"You have caused Van to be even _more_ distracted," Foken chided. "And you have caused him to only hunger for one thing if I know my brother as well."

"And what is that? To burn Asturia to the ground? What harm is there in _that_ goal? It's what we wanted all along, isn't it?" Serena inspected her nails as if bored.

"Your brother's head," Folken stated flatly. "Dilandau piloted your_ brother's_ ship, correct? He'll believe it was Allen who was behind that rampage since it was his guymelef. So it is natural to assume Van will seek the pilot. My brother can be very stubborn in his determination when he chooses to be."

"If he _hurts_ him, I'll slit his throat!" Serena hissed.

"Then sharpen your blade," Dilandau finally spoke up.

The woman glared at him momentarily before giving her attention back to the blue haired Fanel.

"Then I'll order him to be killed."

She gasped in shock and loss of air, kicked her feet wildly as they left the floor and clawed at the metal hand that was wrapped around her slender neck. Folken's fingers flex against her warm, thin throat, her feet scraping the floor as she struggled against him.

"Accidents happen, princess," Folken cautioned with the same sinister promise that was glowing in his eyes. "Harm my brother and you shall not see your plan complete."

With that spoken, he released her.

She fell to the floor, coughing and gasping. Sucking in ragged breaths she sharply stared at the prince who remained unimpressed with her fiery temper. The man was unpredictably dangerous, it was the main attraction she had to him, but never had it been turned against her.

If his loyalty was starting to wane, she would either have to remind him who was in charge or eliminate him all together.

* * *

Hitomi watched the simple and proud city as the flames slowly began to die around the middle of the day. She stood in the same place since she woke up. Not too sure where she was, her heart decided to focus on the one thing that was too obvious to ignore.

Fanelia was destroyed.

It had taken less than an hour.

It had been worst in the beginning. The sounds of pain rose higher and were carried further on the wind than the flames that elicited those horrible, blood curdling screams. Without a single shred of doubt, the Queen knew those echoes would never be forgotten.

It was all her fault. It had to be! Van left and less than five months later the entire city was gone. The precious people were now dead, dying, or barely moving while they tried to escape.

"It's my fault," she whispered.

"Is that so?" came Armand's tired, yet sarcastic voice from behind her. "I didn't know you knew how to pilot a guymelef."

She turned her head slightly to stare over her shoulder.

"I took the soldiers away from their posts. I shouldn't have done that." The tears that had dried in shock now started to form on the bottom of her eyes again. "They would have been able to-"

"Become smears underneath the guymelefs' feet," Armand woke her up only a few hours ago. She curled up to the smallest possible position she could get in next to the orphanage's ruins. Thankfully there were only a few bruises and nothing else to indicate the horrors that so recently had passed. The knight had felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders when he realized she was going to be fine.

Hitomi's already pale face went a few shades whiter as her lips started to tremble.

"How can you be so callous?"

"You sound shocked and that amuses me." He leaned against what was left of an inner wall of the orphanage, his bad leg stretched out while the other one was drawn to his chest with his injured arm draped across it. So far she had been too distracted or unobservant to notice he was hurt. He wanted it this way; she's only worry _more_ if she found out.

"What do we do now?" Hitomi questioned, sat down, and placed her hands on her face. "Where can we go?"

"I have _six_ sisters," Armand stated plainly, flipping his hand back and forth. "I think _one_ of them might be talking to me."

Hitomi's head shot up.

"What about the other survivors?"

"If they are smart, they've already high tailed it to the forest and beyond. Probably to the wolf tribe that lives within the woods. If they are truly stupid enough to stay around then the fact they shall not live long enough to breed is comforting. A win-win situation if you will." Armand bit his lip to keep from moaning in pain as he rose shakily to his feet. His entire body protested at this continued abuse but, again, there was nothing to be done about it. Like any good knight or servant to his country the royal family came first.

"We should go. If they have scouts in the area, they'll find us too quickly if we remain in one place," The knight pointed out, trying to causally use the wall as a crutch.

Hitomi rose to her feet, green eyes lost some of their brightness during the hours of observation of Fanelia. Her mind circled on two things. The first was how Van was going to react to her once he found out when they saw each other again. The second was how could she ever even look anyone in the eye again?

She felt the full blame on her heart, nothing the snotty knight said was ever going to change that.

As they slowly started to go past the child graveyard, Armand gave a side glance to one of the tombstones, and gently patted his pant pocket where the rabbit doll had been tucked. Another thought struck him, should he keep anymore secrets from her?

Biting the inside of his cheek he decided that instilling false hope would only be damaging at this point. Given her current state, he would suspect that the woman would only think he was lying anyway.

He was only half sure he had seen Escaflowne among the flames, fighting like a creature possessed by unnatural spirits. Shivering, the man shook off the memory. It couldn't have been Escaflowne, King Van wasn't heartless.

His soft touch heart was what made him such a great king, Armand wagered with a sigh. With a sound throb of pain, the brunette hissed.

The first task—find a horse.

* * *

Staggering back through the tents, the men were both grieved and excited about the past battle. They had made a serious dent in Asturia's forces, but it came at the price of Fanelia's capital city.

For the survivors who they were able to find in the city and the forest, the soldiers escorted them back to the camp. The herd of people had nowhere else to go but with their King. Van's gut feeling was he failed them once, and fate be damned if he would let failure and pain touch his peoples' lives again.

The ebony haired royal was silent during the trip back to the encampment were they met many questions from the Zaibachian allies. The quick departure caused suspicions of abandonment to rise. Upon hearing the grievous tale, they sympathized as much as Zaibachians could.

When anyone made an inquiry to the king, Van barely uttered a word and finally retired to his tent. No one dared to bother him.

Van swayed across the grassy floor of his make shift home. Numbness like he never expected suffocated him, made it impossible to register anything surrounding him. The Mystic Moon could a have fallen from the heavens, onto his head and he would have never noticed.

His kingdom.

A smoldering pile of rubble, isn't that what he had fought so vehemently against? He had battled, learned, and gone to every mind deadening social engagement for years on end and for what? To have his worst fears come true.

What was it for?

What was it for!

Perhaps he should never have left his kingdom. It would have been easier to hand Sir Jill over and let the man take the blame for everything that had happened which brought about this gruesome war.

There was nothing he could do to change the past. There was barely anything he could do within the realms of honor that would allow him the type of vengeance he still lusted after.

All those who fell under his blade only made him want more. Their pained, startled screams could hardly be remembered as the satisfaction coursed through his veins. It felt _right_ to be without abandon, to do everything he felt without the worry of something being sacrificed. No one had anything to take from him now but his people. Whoever harmed those last few people would die as swiftly as those who attacked his kingdom.

Every one of them fell, all but Allen. The Asutrian knight's guymelef was a renowned fighter and easy to recognize, even amongst the chaos. They had _trusted_ him and this was his repayment?

Death?

Hitomi!

Fear and anger blended into one powerful need to physically damage something.

Van growled. Lashing out at the nearest thing to him, a small table, the object instantly snapped, wobbled and toppled over on its side.

He jerked away until, through the corner of his eye, he saw a piece of paper flutter to the ground. Plucking it up, Van felt his nerves cool slightly. It was the missing letter from Sir Armand. All this time and it was right there!

But he had searched there! He had searched everywhere.

The seal of wax was broken indicating the letter had been previously opened, the king noted absently as he unfolded the paper.

Garnet eyes devoured the words, but they brought him no comfort.

_"To His Royal Highness King Van Slanzar de Fanel, _

_I am happy to inform you that upon your return you will find your wife in the most delicate of positions and your kingdom rejoicing. Hopefully, we will be rejoicing your military triumphs and also the promise of a healthy, happy baby to serve as heir before a half a year has passed. _

_Faithfully, _

_Sir Armand Decri Ganesha _

Van knew it was Armand's penmanship and an authentic signature. Ganesha was his father's, Balgus, last name. The knight only used it when printed on the official documents, such as letters and decries. It was true then.

The rumors the voice had whispered were true.

Hitomi had been with child; _his_ child

After the anger dried up, the tears started to burn his eyes.

Crumbling to the ground, the man let out a sound that was ripped from his very core. Trembling hands covered his flowing eyes as he felt the world around him finally dissolve into blackness.


	47. Mutating Honor

**Chapter 47**

* * *

Hitomi had let her annoyance take over her depression as she drummed her fingers on the exposed saddle leather. They had been moving quickly and carefully in case any of the Asturian soldiers had lingered about to kill the rest of the people. It was during this travel they came upon a stray horse which Armand insisted the Queen ride, and then came the blasted split in the road.

To the right was a bright and cheerful path that was cleared neatly and seemed to drip with fairy-tale worthiness. While on the left was untamed, dark, and gray. Hitomi gave a bitter smile as she thought of this fork in the road as a perfect example of the two faced forest. Nice one moment and evil the next, and at this moment the Queen wanted nothing more than to kick Armand.

"I think we should definitely go this way," The brunette pointed toward the well lit and merry path.

"They'll think we'll take that path," Hitomi huffed, having repeated this very argument only three minutes before. "We should take the other one."

Armand regarded both paths and then the Queen by glancing over his shoulder.

"Ah, but think! If they know we know that they would know which trail we would most likely take, and then they will think we will take that path," he pointed to the right. "But! If we know that they know that they _think_ they know that we would take the darker path, then we shall throw them completely off guard by taking our original plan."

"That's stupid," Hitomi replied flatly, subconsciously rubbing her stomach. "We should go down the trail less traveled."

Again, he shot her a look over his shoulder.

"Did you ever consider the reason _why_ it was less traveled?" He straightened himself, "It just screams 'big and blood thirsty creatures live down here' and I have no passion to become the lunch menu."

"It could be just as dangerous down that way, too!"

"Maybe, but at least it isn't a spooky dangerous!"

A smirk traced the blonde's lips.

"Are you afraid of the dark?"

"No," Armand answered in a disgusted tone. "I'm afraid of being _eaten_ by the things that live in the dark."

Green eyes flipped heavenward.

"You're the one who's afraid of little spiders," Hitomi mentioned exasperated, thankful that Armand, in his normal twisted way, had taken her mind off of what had happened just two days prior.

"I told you never to mention that again!" Directing the horse toward the darker path, and muttering none-too-pleasant things under his breath, the travelers continued.

* * *

Aston sat back in his chair, wiped his grease slicked fingers on a napkin. With a pointed look, he eyed Eries and asked, "So is it done?"

"By now, yes," the princess answered, placing her fork gently by her half-full plate. "The Duke is already beginning to wonder where his son is, Allen is off schedule, which is out of character."

The king grunted, "And are you sure this will work?"

"If you start to question me now, father, it will only lead to trouble." Eries slowly rose to her feet, her bright eyes met the dark one's of her father. "A house divided cannot stand, after all."

"And just how many houses are you planning on dividing, child?"

"As many as comes to our door," she stated calmly, nodding her good-bye. As she made her way to her bedroom, a soldier stepped out from the shadows, bowed, and gave a large smile.

"There is news, your highness," the man spoke softly.

"And?" The princess questioned, folding her arms behind her back.

"Fanelia has been destroyed. Devastated. Just like Slena, but with more blood, if that is possible." The scout's face itched to smirk but he held it steady as a smile.

The blonde woman diverted her eyes from the scout's gleaming eyes.

"Are you sure? Where did you collect this information from?"

"Our—_inside_ source was kind enough to forfeit the information." The man tipped his head to the side. "I also heard it was advisable to strike soon—according to the source, he is but a broken image of a man."

She turned to the side, her eyes scanning the horizon for answers. With the help of her advisors, she had carefully woven a story which would be thought of as truth as long as Coron kept his end of the deal. The man believed his wife and daughter to be dead and that was a deception she struggled with everyday.

Both females were safe to the best knowledge of her resources. Allen would be framed and blamed for the death of Chid if everything went correctly. It would be then they could point the finger and lay the blame for the evils that had occurred with the crest of Asturia on it. She would then offer him up as a sacrifice for peace.

If that didn't work at gaining more allies and easing the minds of the one's they already had, she would have to acknowledge Allen's lineage and claim to Zaibach. It would mean the torture and death of the knight.

It broke her heart to know her actions would bring about his bloodied death. Closing her eyes, the woman collected her thoughts quickly. It was Eries Aria Aston who closed her eyes, but the Princess of Asturia stood there instead when those same eyes opened.

"Thank you for your services," she stated coldly. "The information has been useful." With that, she waved the man away and continued to her bedroom.

* * *

Allen remained in his room for two days without any outside contact. The crew began to think he took the most dishonorable route imaginable, suicide, to escape the chaos around him. It was with a great sigh of relief that he emerged from his private cabin on the third day.

His eyes were stern, no laugh lit even around the edges. No longer was he the tired and precariously balanced knight, he was a man with a plan. The men were quick to report the young Prince's body reverted back to the doppleganger's normal form during Allen's absence and the murderer, Coron, was put under lock and key with two of the strongest men to guard him.

Allen's response was to nod in understanding and go directly to the bridge.

"I could smell you coming," Gaddess greeted with a half-hearted smile. "I know you have a private bath, why on Gaea not take advantage of it?"

"We need to be pointed west," Allen replied, his voice creaky from disuse. The captain did as told but not without his eyebrow arched high.

"Where are we going?" Gaddes finally inquired after the great airship was turned around.

Allen stood, his back to them, gazing out of the window in front of him. His arms were folded behind his stiff back, blonde hair draped over one shoulder. He was no longer dressed in his knight attire, but instead, a pair of brown trousers, black boots, and a plain purple tunic.

"To find my sister," Allen turned his head to the side, allowing only his profile to be seen. "If she wants me back _that_ badly that she'll destroy half the world and then lie about it then she can have me. She can have me and the hated, war-hungry reputation she's given me."

The crew was speechless, each thinking about how ill conceived the idea was in various degrees of impolite language. None were brave enough to actually say any of their thoughts out loud, the gleam in their leader's blue eyes told of a man balancing on the edge of a sword. Allen had always been strong and honorable, but stripped of those elements and he was someone else completely.

Who that man was, they weren't sure and were afraid, in some rather large ways, to find out.

* * *

Four days ago. It was only four days and Van could barely feed himself. Greif had blended into anger and soon it was only a slight hum in the steady growl of rage. He was going to gut Asturia. Killing those seven high knights didn't satisfy the burning black hole that had taken him over.

He had had _everything_ he ever dreamed of having. The raven haired man was gifted a peaceful, loving country, a beautiful wife who claimed to love him, and an heir he knew nothing about until he lost everything. In a few short months, he had nothing. Why? Someone set his kingdom up to take the fall for killing a princess, her husband, and the prince of another country. Sure it looked suspicious, but there was no hesitation to lying to blame. Allen, the one they had thought to trust, had stabbed the entire country in the black.

The knight had led the charge on both Slena and Fanelia and both had trusted him. Allen escaped last time, but he would fall under Van's blade. The King would not _rest_ until he had the sounds of Allen gurgling on his own blood to sing him to sleep at night. Such a demon's lullaby would hardly satisfy his taste of vengeance, but it would ease the pain.

The king's heart twisted, disgusted with his thoughts, but unable to deny the passion that lay behind the words and the want to carry the actions through. He tightened his fists and felt the sting that came with reopening his wounds on his palms.

When Serena had come to him with a thick cloak covering her head to toe, all except her lips and eyes was covered in shadow or cloth. Those blue eyes were flashing with warning and highlighted with danger, he had brushed off that and her questions. Livid as she was, it was like a dying flicker of ire compared to his inferno-like rage.

There was a soft rustle of cloth and Van's eyes narrowed. The opening of the tent was to his back but he didn't need to pretend he wasn't aware of who it was.

"What may I do for you, Ana?" his normal smooth and deep voice was rough and low. The warrior king's voice and throat hadn't recovered from all his screaming during the battle.

"I came to speak with you, brother," her voice was always soft, almost motherly. Hadn't Hitomi once said she was in love with children and had always been the maternal one out of them all?

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he let it fall into his heart, which clenched painfully around the thought of his wife. She never knew the _real_ him and perhaps that was the only thing from believing her whole heartedly when she told him that she was in love with him. He was a monster and a failure. Could there be a worse combination?

"Speak then, but do so quickly, I have a great deal of work to do." Van shuffled near his table where maps were strewn about. Truth be told, he had pushed himself away from the table a while ago. Every time he looked at the map, his eyes would drift over to his kingdom's name and place on the paper.

"Are you feeling any better?" she gingerly touched his arm.

The noise he made was something between a snort and a humorless laugh as he tore himself away from her touch.

Ana seemed to fumble with her words for a moment before forming another question, "Have you decided how to handle Asturia?"

"I'll rip them, bloody and raw, from the Gaea."

A frozen finger of dangerous promise traced Ana's spine and caused her to shiver. The tone Van used would scare the very rulers of the underworld. He was a man of action, a trained and lethal king of war now.

"Is any of this because of my sister?" Ana's voice began to tremble. "_For_ my sister?"

Van shot her a fierce look over his tensed, broad shoulder, but gave no answer.

"It's okay, brother, to say yes. You were in love with her, weren't you?" Snapping his face away from the Queen's studying glance, Van bowed his head to cover his eyes in the shadows created by the curtain of his bangs. "I know what you are going through." She pressed.

The man snorted not sparing any reaction or words.

"I, above anyone, understand what you are going through!" Ana cried, her tears rolling down her thin face. "Believe me, brother, I _know_."

Van refused to look at her, not wanting to feel the guilt of making a woman who had endured so much cry yet again in this lifetime. His eyes widened when he felt her hands touch the sides of his stomach and slide up his chest in a tight embrace.

Too stunned was he to twist away or even to tell her to go, but she wasn't in such a loss for words.

Her voice was softer this time, "You lost a wife, I a husband. You have lost a friend and I have lost my entire family. My parents, Leiko, my most beloved sister, Hitomi, and my _child_—all my blood relatives are gone, brother."

Had she been eating those mushrooms the men insisted were causing them to hallucinate? Her hold on him eased as he slowly turned around in her embrace. Wide garnet colored eyes locked with the wet dark eyes.

Render speechless, the King could do nothing to divert her attentions. Maybe, his darker thoughts purred, he didn't want to. The gods of the underground seemed to have made their new home on the very ground they were living on. Everything was gone, destroyed, and so were his responsibilities.

Van was a free spirit, no longer chained down by the locks of formality and breeding. With Hitomi gone—he had no prior claims and would do anything to get away from the pain.

"We have no shame in consoling one another, brother," Ana's words were so soft he was barely able to register them. "We can forget the pain for one night, if you want to- Van."

Later, he would consider that over thinking was the reason he didn't duck her advance.

As her lips gingerly touched his, he would blame the pain for not pushing her away directly.

Lunacy would be the guilty party when he started to respond.


	48. Flying Fallings

**Chapter 48**

* * *

Ana was pleased when she felt Van's hands slide up her arms to her shoulders. She leaned into him further and tilted her head a bit to the left in hopes of bringing a new depth to the kiss. Her heart filled with victory the second he started to respond. The red-headed Queen respected him from the first time he arrived and her attraction grew upon seeing his strength and passion in battle.

He was worth having and she was going to have him all.

Then those same warm hands she trembled under pushed her away.

Van didn't just pull her away from him, he _pushed_.

The woman was jarred out of her content trance as she stumbled back. Disbelieving, Ana blinked rapidly as her mouth hung open, staring at the man in front of her.

His chest was heaving, the garnet eyes closed as he tilted his head as far back as he could, showing the smooth line of his strong neck. Tightly fisted hands hung direct at either side of his body as he stood as still as a tree.

The Queen couldn't tell, but there was a war raging in the man.

He had nothing left to honor, as a husband at least, but it still haunted him. The moment he closed his eyes, Hitomi's face filled his mind. Her green, lively eyes, the small smile she would grant him, the way she would sigh when she fell asleep clinging to his chest. His eyes began to burn so he had shut them tightly, not wanting to appear weak in front of anyone.

No matter what he thought he could do, Van couldn't just erase her memories from his mind. He couldn't learn to hate her like he had done with Serena. The way she was, the way she loved him, none of that could be forgotten in less than a week. He could lean on Ana but would it really make him feel better?

Gods, but he wish he could but there was something, like a fading light, akin to hope still in his heart. Though he'd never admit it, Ana's offer was one temptation he would have gladly taken but his heart refused to even entertain the notion.

It rebuked reality, much like when his brother disappeared, and wouldn't settle for the truth.

After a few heartbeats, Ana straightened her shoulders and narrowed her eyes.

"Brother?" she addressed him in a slightly chilled tone. No woman was ever happy at being thrown aside without a solid reason and this woman was no different. "What is it?"

"I won't," he stated firmly as he lowered his head, his eyes still closed.

"Why not?" she demanded, "You owe me an explanation."

Van became silent again for a few moments before turning his face to hers and opening his dark and dangerous eyes.

"You owe me one first." He stepped a half step toward her, making her suddenly feel very unsure of herself. "Why did you come in here?"

"I—I told you why," Ana felt a blush touch her cheeks as he towered over her making her feel like a small child about to be reprimanded by an angry parent. "I thought I could help you by offering you comfort."

"Comfort?" Anger filled the man's voice. "Do you think I can actually find _comfort_ in _anything_?"

Ana stammered again, not sure it was wise to speak when his tone had a velvety darkness wrapped around it.

"We have been through the same things, brother; I only thought we might be able to console each other!" Toward the end of her explanation, her voice rose in pitch as her fear started to climb.

She had seen him rip the enemies apart with Escaflowne, what he could do with his bare hands was something she did not want to find out if it was for pain and not pleasure.

Van's eyes flickered with some emotion that Ana couldn't place.

"Console?" he questioned, eyes narrowing to thin slits. "You were trying to take advantage of the situation. Have you no respect for your husband's memory or my wife's?"

The Queen felt the ever present knife of her loss twist in her heart.

"If you loved her so much, then why didn't you look for her?" Ana questioned harshly, tears of rejection and failure stinging her eyes.

Mahogany eyes sparked red with intense warning, "Tread lightly, Mena."

"I offered comfort, but you push me away," Ana muttered softly, she had enough decency to look ashamed as she covered her face with both her hands. "Do you still think she is alive?"

The king's eyes never left her frame as he answered.

"It is doubtful." The memory of the palace being ravaged scrapped across his mind, bringing about as much pain as it did when he watched it happen. His breathing became more rough but nothing else changed.

"Did you love her?" Ana's question went point blank to his heart. "If you did, then you would have looked for her, right? Did you?" Her voice rose in volume and desperation to the point she sounded like an angry mouse. "Did you!"

Van's jaw tightened, his shoulders stiffened, and his entire frame went rigid. The tension was thick enough to spread on a piece of bread.

"Leave."

There was no room for argument in his voice and she put up no protest as she scrambled to the exit.

The men around the tent only raised an eyebrow each at her as she stumbled past them. Sobs clogged her throat and she did her best to try and swallow them back into the pit of her stomach. Burning eyes threatened tears to cool them down, but Ana didn't want to cry. She'd do _anything_ to make sure—including making improper temptations to her sister's husband.

Wanting to be free from accusing or questioning eyes, the woman walked into the woods on a haphazard path of her own design. She wasn't sure how much time had passed as her haze deemed minutes not worth the counting.

Wandering into the dark woods, she barely registered any movement or noise until one spoke directly to her.

"Ana," came a firm, cool voice.

Fearfully, she turned around her hazel eyes wide as they focused slowly on the man propped against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk in place. He was every bit the frigid confidence that he should be.

Ana's breath came up short as her knees began to weaken. This meant trouble.

"Dilandau!"

Pushing himself off the tree, he drew closer to her with relaxed, measured steps.

"Where have you been?" The man questioned his eyebrow quirking as he came to a stop in front of her, leaving mere inches between them.

"I—I was visiting my brother." Ana kept her head down, as if subservient to the knight.

"Oh, I know that." He gave an artificial smile. "My real question is you were visiting him for what purpose?"

He could hear her swallow and see her small hands as they trembled at her sides.

"I was going to comfort him," the red-head's one-dimensional answer made the man chuckle.

It was like hearing a wolf growl before it pounced and Dilandau pounced. In a blink, he had gripped a hand full of her red locks near the base of her skull. Yanking viciously, he brought her pale face to his own until their noses touched. She couldn't scream, for all her fear of this monster what he would do to her if she screamed scared her even more so into silence.

"Leave the King alone," the man hissed out, using his free hand to trace her jaw line. "He is not yours to play with."

She made no struggle to be released from his iron clad grip. No matter how hard she tried, the woman couldn't stop the tears that quickly began to flow as fear melted everything else. Grunting, Dilandau exchanged his death grip from her hair to her left wrist as he dragged her further into the woods.

* * *

Hitomi curled up in a smaller ball on the borrowed bed, her hands wrapped around her swelling stomach. She felt the small life move, like air bubbles in water; it squirmed at night and was peaceful during the day.

She rubbed her stomach with a small smile on her face. Van wouldn't know how to react! Hopefully they would find where he was before the end of the month. It had already been a week since they left what little was left of Fanelia.

Armand led them straight to his fourth oldest sister, Iriel, for protection and comfort. She had a small house on the edge of the kingdom, but it was large enough to get Hitomi away from her knight.

After sleeping in the woods with the weary old horse as a source of warmth, Hitomi was grateful to have a bed, no matter how lumpy, to call her own. It was actually Iriel's son's, Chandler, bed but he had given it up and slept in the hayloft.

The knight had snorted and said boy was probably not sleeping alone if he was even sleeping.

As tired as she was, Hitomi's heavy eyes wouldn't stay closed. Every now and then something Iriel and Armand were talking about would catch her attention and refuse to let her rest until they switched topics. They hopped subjects like rabbits on sugar.

"So mother is-gone?" Iriel questioned softly. Hitomi scooted up the bed, closer to the door that was left ajar for ventilation purposes.

"She is—with father," Armand replied, his voice lacking in emotion, but tone holding a light note.

"I see."

Sighing, the queen tucked herself further into the bed, trying to erase the heaviness in her heart. Figures that the mean jerk Van could be would be away from her! He left her! Alone and pregnant to take care of an entire country!

So it wasn't a rational argument, but at this moment, dead tired and sore from sleeping and walking through the woods had taken their toll. Huffing, the woman closed her eyes.

A chair scraped the floor causing the eavesdropper to flinch, and then there was a long stretch of silence.

"Don't pass judgments on me, Iriel!"

"Calm down! You'll wake up her highness!"

Her interests were beyond peaked. What judgments was the sister passing?

No! Hitomi argued with herself as she scooted up further on the bed, this was wrong! But regardless, she reached out and opened the door another few inches until the light from the small kitchen glazed her features in its honey colored hues.

"That was _my_ fault and you have no right to say otherwise. You weren't _there_!" Armand's voice rose dramatically. "I _killed_ them, Iriel. Don't ever say anything different!" With that, the knight stormed out of the house, punctuating his departure with the slamming of the door.

Armand killed? The thought that that cream puff could actually use a sword for something besides decoration never crossed her mind. Then again, hadn't he saved her from that guymelef? Hadn't he proven his skill then?

She mulled over her thoughts when she heard the other female start to speak again.

"I know you're awake, Queen Hitomi," Iriel stated.

The blonde gave a soft, nervous laugh as she pushed herself from the door. Caught! She'd been caught! How?

"You can come out; he won't be back for a few hours," Iriel's voice held a light tone of amusement in it.

There was little point in hiding and it would be rude to ignore the invitation, Hitomi crawled out of bed and padded her way into the kitchen.

"How did you know I was awake?"

The woman laughed lightly and pointed to a chair for Hitomi to sit down, "Dear, I'm a mother. I have eyes in the back of my head." She straightened slightly, her smile going a bit crooked as it grew. "I'm the mother of a teenage boy so I have the hearing that would put a bat to shame. Any little creak or groan of this house has my full attention."

Hitomi bit her lower lip, trying to think of a way to ask her question without being rude.

"He left because he's mad," Iriel started with a heartfelt sigh. "He's mad because he still thinks it's his entire fault. No one, not I nor my mother or _any_ of our sisters have ever been able to convince him otherwise."

"Of what?" Armand's past was something Hitomi could easily get lost in, if it wasn't too dirty, to forget the last weeks for a few moments.

"His wife and daughter," she flipped her blue eyes toward the ceiling. "He blames himself for their deaths."

"Oh."

"Armand never mentioned it to you, did he?" Iriel's smile faded. "I guess not, why would he? After all he likes to pretend he's okay." Tipping her head slightly toward Hitomi she gave another faint smile. "Would you like to hear about it?"

Hitomi thought about it for a brief second before answering honestly, "It wouldn't be right to hear it without his permission. It feels like opening his diary or something equally as _wrong_."

"It's only wrong if you get caught and I told you he'll be away for hours." Iriel smirked when she noticed the curious sparkle in the blonde's eyes. Clearing her throat, the woman began the bittersweet tale of her brother and his late wife.

By the time they got half way through, Hitomi had tears rolling down her face. So much she didn't know! Though it was sad, she could clearly see why Armand would think he was the ultimate cause for Caria and Nirin's deaths.

"Until the day they died, he swore he never cared for Caria." Iriel stirred the cup of tea she'd poured herself during the talk.

"From the things he did and said, I wouldn't doubt he didn't." Hitomi remarked softly. Armand was outspoken against his wife's affections and yet they had a child. Van and her were about to have a baby—was Van just more silent on his distaste for her?

Hadn't Armand said Van only laid with her in order to try for an heir? Hitomi huffed; of course she would just happen to be fertile Mertile!

"He stayed with her for hours," Iriel's voice returned to the soft, almost whispering state. Her eyes told she was a years away from where they were now. "We found them, you know. He was on his knees, her in his lap, and his arms wrapped around her rocking back and forth. I don't even think Armand realized what he was doing. His eyes were so red from crying and when we tried to take her away…He became hysterical."

"He screamed at us for taking her, and even hit my mother when she came too close. Armand just kept begging for her to come back, to forgive him." She gave a soft, humorless laugh. "He repeated over and over how much he loved her, how sorry he was and how he'd make it up to her if she'd just open her eyes."

"Soon, Armand wasn't the only one who was crying. The only way we got him away from the ruins was because he passed out. The undertaker came and took Caria away. We took him back to his house and called the doctor. The idiot caught a cold. It progressed into something more threatening, but he wouldn't take care of himself."

"But he survived." Hitomi used her napkin to catch the new tears. Her emotions were supposed to be sensitive due to the young life within her, but this was just being cruel!

"Yes," Iriel nodded, yawning. "I think we should sleep, you have a busy day tomorrow with traveling and I have to work on what Armand wanted me to do." The older woman stood up, collected the used dishes and gave the Queen a warm smile, "Good-night your majesty."

Hitomi went back to bed, feeling as though Iriel cut off part of the story. It bothered her, but not enough anymore to keep her mind and body from demanding and giving into the sweet seduction of sleep.

The next morning, Hitomi was red faced and demeaning about her new situation.

"_How_ did you talk me into this again?" Hitomi snapped and Armand smirked. She had a shoulder length wig on made from his brown, wavy hair. Her normal dress was exchanged for a custom made uniform usually worn by the squire's from the kingdom of Phalik. Her growing stomach was made to look like a rather unhealthy beer-belly and just for an added touch, Armand insisted upon putting dirt smudges on her face.

Armand wore a knight's outfit of Phalik; the major change was his hair. Hitomi didn't even recognize him when he had come out to wake her up this morning. All that was left of his long locks was a close cut almost like those given to the new military, but longer in length. It matured him while simultaneously giving him a more masculine flare until he would open his mouth.

"Oh calm down, little Miss Fickle-Franny. You look like the man you always wished you were." He chuckled lightly at his own joke as he saddled up the horse.

It was just yesterday, the knight explained, that he had Iriel sheer his hair and bribed her with knowledge of several dirty little secrets into making a wig that now sat on Hitomi's head. A truly interesting family in a very odd way, the blonde admitted.

Now they were preparing to head out to the last place that the Fanelia/Zaibach camps were spotted. Hitomi's emotions were an even mix of eagerness and dread. If only she could see Van again, talk to him, and tell him of the horrors that had happened she knew he would work it out. The dread was rooted in the fact that the country he left her in charge of was now a smoldering black dot on every map.

For every joyful thought of being reunited, there was a fear to taint it to sadness. Would he hate her? Would he forgive her for leaving?

"Are you ready, Fernando?" There was that strange humor that was so common with the knight coming through again. He had chosen her 'male' name and had made a great joke out of it.

"Armand! You still need the ribbon!" Iriel beaconed from the house. Hitomi watched her protector limp away with the same suspicious eyes she had since noticing the limp. He wouldn't tell her and she wasn't about to pry because there was no one else to direct her through the woods.

Inside the house, Armand dropped down heavily into one of the chairs. Taking in a deep breath, he leaned down and rolled up his pant leg. His sister settled herself on the floor with new bandages, a bowl of hot water, and a smaller bowl of herbal mixture.

Cutting away the old bandage that was already soaked through due to the drainage from the wound.

"You really do nothing half-heartedly do you?"

He hissed as she started to wipe away the dead tissue, "Wo—wouldn't want to damage my reputation."

She snorted in response and continued working on his leg. When she was done, he rolled down his pant leg, and slapped her hands away from his injured arm. After repeating his gratitude for her kindness, the woman only nodded and warned him not to mess anything up.

"When have I ever messed anything up, sister dear?" he questioned, an acid comment perching itself on his tongue ready to strike if her answer was too weak for his liking.

"Do you want the full or abridged version?"

Armand's blue eyes flashed amusement as he backed up toward the door, turned, and left.

Hitomi waved her good-bye from on top of the horse with a sweet smile. When they were finally far enough away from the small cottage, the Queen turned to her servant.

"When do you think we'll get to where Van is?"

"When we see him," he answered smartly. "When else?"

"Where were you last night?"

Armand's face remained sterile of emotion, "Plucking a hair from the chin of several small dwarves."

The woman grew silent again for a few moments before asking, exasperatedly: "Do you realize just how strange you are?"

"I'm not the pregnant woman dressed up like a man who is pretending to be my gay squire lover." Armand barely could keep from laughing at just saying it. Hitomi, though annoyed by the truth, couldn't help but be put at ease at seeing his smile trying to creep up his face.

Still, not wanting to appear soft, she glared at him for good measure.

* * *

Serena was chipping her nails on the table as she tapped them repeatedly for hours on end. There was more than one thing bothering her about the attack on Fanelia. The death was nothing. The fire and destruction was nothing, she couldn't try to care less, but Van knew.

How did he know? Dilandau had slipped off under the cover of night and no one was supposed breathe a word from the Zaibach camp that the general knight was missing. No one even knew where he went except the Dragon Slayers which now only added to the body count in Fanelia.

Serena clawed the table, leaving deep gouges in the finish of the wood.

"How did Van find out?" the princess questioned.

Dilandau, for his part, only shrugged.

She partly growled. Folken was on her case about not stopping Dilandau from destroying Fanelia so it was highly doubtful that _he_ was the cause. Someone had to know. Someone had to have told Van. But who?

Eyeing the black clad knight, for once out of his armor since they were resting in _his_ tent, she glared. The man wouldn't betray her, would he? Serena had always questioned his loyalty and her suspicious, plotting mind now concocted the idea that all her questions might be justified.

The angered princess went to interrogate him, but a low and thunderous rumble blanketed the camp. An innocent cup, minding its own wine became a victim of the noise as it scooted along the length of the table and toppled to the ground, breaking on contact.

"What's was that?" Serena questioned, annoyed. Pulling her cloak forward to mask her face she quickly exited the tent with Dilandau, with helmet on, behind her. He looked rather ridiculous in civilian clothing and topped off with a thick, heavy helmet.

The man cocked his head to the side as a huge airship's anchor was thrown from its side. A second later it met the earth with a _boom_ and a tremor that woke the sleeping inhabitants up. Many of the men ran around, half awake screaming about a ground quake.

"Who is that?" Dilandau asked in a wary tone, turning to the princess.

"My brother!" Serena chirped happily, clapping her hands together like a normal female for once. "He's come at last!"

"Fine, but what is _that_?" The man pointed toward the purple-blue sky as a creature with giant wings flew directly for the docking air ship.

With a venomous growl and an angry stomp of her foot, the woman gave a one worded answer. "_Van_!"


	49. Building Belief

**Chapter 49**

* * *

Folken, even from his island perch, felt the rumble of noise shake the air. It was enough of an unusual thing to cause him to peer over the side. What he saw caused his eyes to widen: an airship. Turning toward the silver haired neko, he quirked an eyebrow.

"Find out what is going on."

The woman bowed and soon was out of sight. Staring at the encampment, the man narrowed his eyes and let out a slow angered breath. If it was Allen's ship, which he speculated it was, then things were changing too quickly.

There were still pieces that hadn't been taken out and other ones that weren't yet moved into place. The man thinned his eyes into slits. It would have to be Serena's fault. She never listened to him until she was in dire trouble. He'd stand on the sidelines and wait patiently for her to come crawling back to him.

After he had straightened out whatever mess she had created, she'd try to take the reins again. This was _too_ important to permit her jealously and impatience to destroy all they had worked for so far. Either she was going to be part of the answer or she'd be taken out of the equation.

* * *

"Do you hear something?" Gaddes questioned after a rather solid _thud_ reached his ears. No sooner had the last word slipped from his mouth than an angelic, enraged man crashed through the window of the pilot deck.

"Yup! Sure do!" another man replied, drawing his sword.

The angel wings disappeared in a fury of feathers and all that was left was one pissed off man with a rather vindictive gleam on his sword and in his eyes.

"Where's Allen?" he hissed out.

They gave no worded answer.

Van's red eyes almost glowed with fire as the startled men leapt into action, drawing their swords, and charged the intruder. In a breath, he deftly disarmed the first group and sent them into an unconscious heap to one side of the room.

"Allen! Company!" Gaddes yelled as the enraged warrior knocked out another three of the crew members in a single heartbeat. The pilot didn't want to leave his post; thankful they had already landed and anchored otherwise the maniac would make them fall from the sky.

When the knight's boot touched the control deck, Van's eyes were thin slits. The hunter had his prey.

Slicing through the rest of the men who dared come between him and the murderer of his nation, Van was soon within striking distance of the blonde. Raising his sword, the ebony haired king brought the blade down with all his strength.

"Your majesty!" Allen yelped, barely drawing his sword in time.

The would-be killing blow was mere inches from the blonde's eyes. He grunted, trying to push the angered sword away. Van was thrown off balance when Allen jerked to the side, but it didn't distract the king for long.

With his footing back, he whirled around, steel clashing with steel.

"_Murderer,_" Van accused in a voice that sounded more like judgment from the gods than that of a man's.

_Oh, damn_, were the only two words that crossed Allen's mind. He had to get Van to listen, but how?

"King Van!" Allen started only to have to block another quick and excellent stroke from the man. Apparently, the king was short on conversation while in a blood thirsty rage. "We need to talk!"

"Talk?" Van hissed. Drawing back from Allen after his attack failed. He twisted his sword in a way that seemed to make it sneer at the knight in a dark promise of pain. "All you ever gave me were _lies_."

With the last word, Van thrust forward again, Allen side stepped, but his upper arm was nicked. Grunting in pain the blonde decided to put Van on more uneasy territory to slow his attacks.

"Coward!" Van screamed as Allen turned heel and ran down the throat of his hall toward the sleeping quarters.

All of this was for Slena?

* * *

Down beneath the flying ship, Serena glared up at the sky. Van was going to ruin everything! All her hard work was going to come to nothing if he hurt her brother! Grinding her teeth together, the princess whirled around, and pinned down Dilandau with her glare.

"Dilandau! To my tent, _now_!" she ordered, storming off toward their intended destination. The soldiers, who had been curious about the ship and the winged man they had seen going to the ship, turned to the General Knight and silently held a question.

"To your posts," he commanded. "And you are not to move until_ I_ tell you so or I'll rip your eyes through your mouth."

The men scampered away, forgetting the domineering princess and the ship all at once. No one wanted to get on Dilandau's bad side unless they wanted to die. Sighing, the man turned and walked to the appointed tent.

Pulling the drape back, he entered and crossed his arms.

"Yes?" his voice was tired and annoyed.

Serena had her back to the man at first but she slowly turned, pulling her hood away from her face and the cape from her shoulders as a seductive and dangerous smile played across her lips.

"I don't want Van to ruin _my_ plans. _Folken's_ are entirely optional." She slowly drew closer to him. "I will take care of," she traced the gold inlay of the mask plate of the helmet, "this little issue if you will take care of mine."

Clearing his throat, he pushed her away gently.

"And how would you propose I do that?"

"As always, by any means necessary."

There it was. The enraged, spoiled tone he had come to know so well.

"Find a bargaining chip. You told me that _Mena_ said he never searched for his whore wife; see if you can find _her _and if not _her_ then someone who can pass as her. Am I understood?"

Unlatching the helmet from the rest of his armor, the man was able to look her dead in the eye,

"Yes."

Her anger was always like this, it would turn from that of a spoiled child not getting her way to a woman fully capable of manipulating the world with her rather sensual charms. The man had more than grown used to it as much as he grew to be unaffected as well.

He would do as she willed only until he too could act out his own plan. To please this pampered peasant was only his temporary goal that would allow him more access into fleshing out his other, more powerful plans.

"I knew I could always trust you." She smirked. "Go."

The knight smiled, no one made a fool of him without feeling the repercussions for it.

* * *

Allen had been trained by Balgus, one of the three legendary swordsmen of Gaea, and thought himself to be excellent at the blade. But the fire pits of the damned had no fury like an angry, focused king full of rage and a knight still recovering from weeks of poor nutrition and no exercise.

"Van!" Allen had dropped formalities when Van had taken off a good five inches of his blonde hair in the process of trying to take off his head. "Listen to me! I did not _touch_ Slena!"

Van paused, his deathly fiery eyes flickering with confusion before he narrowed them, flexing his muscles to get a tighter grip on his sword.

"This has _nothing_ to do with _Slena_."

The confusion skipped, rather ungracefully into Allen's eyes as he ducked and blocked the renewed onslaught. If this had nothing to do with Slena, then what was this for? Had he unknowingly insulted the king in some unforgivable way?

"Then why are you fighting me!" Allen pushed through clenched teeth. "I have done _nothing_ but helped you!"

Death would have quivered with anticipation and appreciation with the fires that were stroked in Van's eyes.

"For _Fanelia._" Van's sword came threatening close to Allen's face. "You attacked _Fanelia_."

His words were like spitting lava, hot and dangerous as his sword whirled around in a silver blur of steel.

Twisting out of the way of his deadly blow, Allen's mind whiplashed with the new information.

_Dammit!_ Allen cursed in his mind as he jerked to the side to avoid Van's sharp blade.

"Listen to me!" the knight insisted, "I am _not _the one who attacked Fanelia!"

"I saw you!" Van hissed, "I was _there_. We _fought_." A cruel smile traced the enraged man's lips, "Though you had more of a _spine_ then and fought back instead of _dodging_."

Allen was very graceful and forceful in a fight, when it was a fight between gentlemen or someone he didn't care if he hacked to bits, but this was neither.

It was by sheer laziness that the bucket hadn't been picked up.

It was plain bad luck that caused the knight to trip over the lonely bucket, the water and his behind hitting the ground at the same time.

He cursed, in an effort to catch himself, Allen's sword fell. Scampering to retrieve the fallen blade, he found it rather difficult as a brown booted foot stepped soundly on its blade. The tip of the King's sword touched the soft throat of the knight.

"No more games."

Thinking quickly, the man swallowed hard before meeting the eyes of his would be executioner. Why hadn't the ebony man sliced his throat? He certainly was in the proper blood lust for it. Death was not beyond the Fanelian's grasp. There was no hesitation, just a silent reflection that made Allen grateful.

Gazing down at the man who was renowned for being one of the strongest fighters, one of the more acclaimed swordsmen and so on, Van felt a sheer, sickening power well in his breast. Here he was, the 'country king' with such a great man at his feet. Allen's life, what little time there was left of it, was completely in his hands.

The blooming darkness made Van ill, but the iron expression gave none of his thoughts away. This would be his first face-to-face kill. The thought, just that single fact, made the waning goodness inside him quiver.

So lost in thought, it took the blonde's voice to break him from his reverie.

"If you are the good and just King who I have come to know over the past years than you will hear me out," Allen heaved, his eyes never wavering from Van's burning ones. It wasn't manipulation or blackmail of the royal's character, more or less, it was the truth.

Van's inner battle raged on but, as always, his honor won out. His anger was forced to subside to his hard ingrained honor instilled in him from his counsel members, family, and all the people who were still depending on him.

"Fine," Van replied acidly, lowering his sword from the blonde's fragile neck. "But make your words count."

"I won't say anything," Allen clambered to his feet. "I have someone else who can vouch for me."

"Oh?" Van replied, slightly and sickly amused. "Then I'm afraid I'll find your defense lacking." With one swift motion, Van had kicked up Allen's sword and caught it deftly in his free hand. He would give the knight a chance to explain but the pits be damned if he was going to arm the man.

Allen made a noise in the back of his throat, but only nodded and soon led him down into the bowels of the ship.

"Here," Allen stated softly, pushing the unlocked door open.

"How do I know you won't try to lock me in?"

Allen, almost amused, pointed toward Van's hand.

"You still carry your sword, mine as well, and you have the ability to cut a rather nasty hole in my ship. I will not lock you in, your majesty."

Van turned toward the darkened room and slowly stepped inside. The only light was from a softly glowing lantern hanging close to the door. Reaching up, the man turned the small flame brighter and scanned the room again. Slightly quirking his eyebrow in mild interest, Van saw a slumped figure before him on the floor at the furthest wall.

The man was chained around the neck, arms, and feet. Whoever the convict was, he was apparently dangerous. It took a few heartbeats, but the prisoner slowly raised his head, his eyes narrowed on Van's face.

Not understanding what this man had to do with proving Allen's innocence, Van waited patiently for the criminal's eyes to adjust. There was surprise written over the man's filthy face and with a weak, strained voice the man whispered out Van's name.

"Who are you?" The king questioned, sheathing his sword. This man presented no threat since he couldn't even stand.

"Va—an," the prisoner croaked. "Coh—Coron."

"Coron?" With the name, the resemblance suddenly slapped the man around. The ebony haired king was by his friend's side in a heartbeat. There was a bucket of water and a banged up metal cup. Dipping the cup into the liquid, Van brought it to Coron's lips and the man drank the water like a sponge. After several cups, the man cleared his throat and gave a faint smile.

"Thank you."

"How do I know it's really you?" Van inquired, sitting down in front of the man.

Another faint smile, "I met my wife in _your_ kingdom." Coron's chest heaved, as if his heart were twisting physically. "My—my beautiful—wife." Closing his eyes, tears leaked out, and cleaned paths on his face marred from the dirt.

Ana. Van felt guilt gnaw at him. He must've thought Ana was dead; of course, she thought he was dead and only a few nights ago had tried to 'comfort' her brother-in-law with her body. How could he tell this man all that?

Of course, the answer was simple. He wouldn't tell Coron a thing.

"Why do they have you locked up?" Van pushed forward, not wanting to linger on the topic of Ana too long.

With a deep set grimace, the king retold of his excellent plan. How the princess of Asturia, Eries, had been willing to comply with his requests. She had tricked the crew, Allen, and everyone into believing he was just an orphaned ship hand looking for travel. He even retold the events of how he had stolen Allen's clothes, even lured the young prince to his room, and then completed the plans on that fateful night.

Van paled at the brutality his friend related.

"I made sure it aligned perfectly with my marriage anniversary. Something to make my dead bride smile knowing that I paid her death back in the blood of the man's who took her from me."

"When was that?" Leaning his head back, Coron's eyes closed as his mouth moved over days and weeks, calculating the answer. When Van had his answer, the man started to shift through the calendar in his mind.

Understanding flooded his senses. If it was not on the _exact_ date of Fanelia's destruction, it was suspiciously close. Did Eries know this? Did she plan it this way or was it mere coincidence? Narrowing his eyes, Van knew Freid was a good two days journey from Fanelia and there was no way the ship would have been out of Allen's sight for long.

Growling, the King rose to his feet. His anger rolled off of him like waves, without another thought, the garnet eyed man stormed toward the door. A thought struck him, wrapped around his mind and squeezed his better senses.

"Coron," the prisoner turned his face toward his friend. "Ana-_Mena_ is alive and well, she is currently staying in my camp. I don't know where your daughter is, but I know Mena is fine." With that, Van turned and left the room. Allen quickly shut and locked the door of the cell.

Van stood there, unmoving for several moments. His face was turned down, as if staring at the floor, but he was a million years away from the present place. After those moments, his eyes shot toward Allen. The garnet orbs were once again lit with anger, but it wasn't at Allen.

"I fought your guymelef at Fanelia the day it was destroyed," Van said in a deep tone.

"My guymelef has been missing for quite some time. I was incarcerated at the time Slena was destroyed and nearing Freid when Fanelia was massacred," Allen explained with a sturdy voice and an undercurrent of anger. The man only confirmed what Van had already speculated from Coron's story.

_"The guymelef commanded by Sir Allen is missing from its post..._" the memory of the mysterious voice whispering the warning the night before Fanelia was destroyed came back to him. That voice knew of Sir Allen's innocence but _who_ was it?

"Somebody has been setting me up," Van growled. He was being played for a fool! A puppet of someone's self-made fate!

"Yes," Allen affirmed. "I believe it to be my sister."

Silent, Van waited for a further explanation. With a deep sigh, Allen suggested they go somewhere a bit more comfortable since this would probably turn into a long explanation.

* * *

"_No_," Hitomi fumed, crossing her arms.

Even the small baby protested as it flipped and flopped restlessly in her womb. She had nearly blown their cover twice at the same cavern last night when she kept trying to convince Armand to feel her stomach. Since it was a 'male-only' bar, the patrons were more than a bit curious at this strange man. Armand had laughed and said that his 'lover' must have gas. The men chuckled and turned back to their business as the knight bopped the Queen on her wig covered head.

"I draw the line at this!"

Armand was hard pressed to keep a smile on his face, but even he couldn't stop his mouth from twitching in irritation. His wounds needed tended to, they were becoming infected, and he had no desire to go around the rest of his life with one arm and one leg.

"Oh, for pity's sake, I told you before. I have no interest in you like _that_, Fernando." Armand placed his hands on his hips and stared at the equally stubborn cross-dressing woman.

"I-I don't care!" Hitomi felt a blush rise to her cheeks. They had stopped at another inn for the night since their disguises allowed them to travel into towns. "This is just improper!"

A snort was her reply, "And since when have you cared what is and isn't 'proper'? You were the one using a shrimp fork and not the salad fork at the royal ball." Armand pointed out and got a frustrated mutter in answer.

"It was a _dumb_ fork. I doubt anyone noticed," Hitomi huffed.

"I think they did. It was a _huge_ scandal that they already thought you were of peasant education and you just had to go and prove them right," Armand sighed dramatically, "It nearly embarrassed his highness to tears."

"It was a _fork_!"

"And that is just a _bed_!" Armand pointed a finger at the piece of furniture. "I'm not sleeping on the floor anymore and if anyone comes in and checks on us, it'll look odd that we are not sharing a bed, _darling_."

The blonde woman opened her mouth to protest, but found no new argument would come out. She turned around, arms straight at her side.

"Fine! But if you touch me I'm going to throw you out of the window."

Armand gave a full hearted laugh.

"As if you could pick me up with those stick arms."

She turned her nose up in the air and Armand noticed a distinct glow coming from underneath the woman's tunic. Before he could talk, before she could look down at the strange glow, her irises grew large as another world was sketched out before her eyes.

_Two women, both familiar. Van was standing above a body, his hands bloodied and his face the void of emotion as he leaned down and picked something from the carnage. A small, squirming something—a baby! Then a pair of wings unfurled from behind another man who stood behind Van, large black wings. The king turned toward the man and in another breath, became part of the brutal, bloody carnage at the man's feet. The baby screamed as the winged stranger held it in his arms. _

Hitomi's screams made Armand hop into action, grabbing her by the arms and shaking her rather harshly.

"Your majesty!" he hissed sharply; though still quiet enough not to be heard by anyone who might be listening, though, in reflection, he would honestly conclude that his shouting would never been heard over her screaming.

Desperate, the knight was fumbling with the idea of slapping her when she stopped. Just as suddenly as it began, she stopped. Her green eyes rolled back in her head as her head lulled forward, hitting Armand square in the chest.

Grunting, the brunette was able to pick up the passed out female and haul her to the bed where he deposited her. Taking off her boots and not being brave or stupid enough to touch pants or shirt, he took off his sword belt and boots and climbed into the bed. Touching her face to feel for a fever, the knight sighed when he found none and snorted.

"At least I won't have to hear you complain about the sleeping arrangements."


	50. Splish Crash

**Chapter 50**

* * *

Van had to school his face to a complete blank mask. His anger was overwhelming; it licked the sides of his soul in hot white flames, his heart was all but ash under its heat.

He was _really_ in the mode to hunt down a certain blonde and-and-even in his anger, hurting a female made him ill. But it didn't mean he wouldn't do it if the opportunity presented itself.

Allen had gone into great detail about his past as the Prince of Zaibach, how he ran away, met Balgus, and then became a knight of Asturia. The reason for his flight was simple; Serena did something unforgivable in _his_ name.

_"She was only six at the time. I had no idea that she was so—sick."_ Allen had started; Van knew it was just a nice way of saying mentally unhinged. _"My mother had given up hope that my father would return and so when Emperor Donkirk grew fond of her, she agreed when he proposed marriage. _

_He adopted us, believing himself too old to produce any heirs. I became the crown Prince of Zaibach and Serena, naturally, the Princess. For two years, we were well though I disagreed with the way Donkirk did things. He was trying to control fate by a machine he constructed." _

_Allen had given a bitter laugh at this point. _

_"Serena, though, had been spending her time down in the science labs and watched many of the test subjects undergo to horrendous things." He turned reflective and questioned if that was perhaps what had started her bloody path. _

_"Soon, the fights between the King and I climaxed. I thought it was immoral to change the fate of the world to fit my ideal of it or __**his**__ ideal. Then my mother found herself with child and told Serena and I first. I was thrilled to be removed from the spot of heir, but Serena was not so happy." _

_"A natural heir would be more acceptable to the kingdom," Van stated plainly. _

_"Yes. I foolishly told Serena I would be denounced as heir and probably be made the duke of some other territory. That's when she snapped I suppose. Her eyes—I never seen them so cold." Allen leaned back into his chair, the drink he had been sipping long forgotten as his mind dragged him through the blood and mud of his past. _

_"If I had known what it was she was going to do, I would have done anything to stop her, but I was too late. There were no screams, no signs—nothing about that night made it any different from any other. I had gone to bed and so did she, or so I thought but after midnight, she came to me. She had a look on her face as if she just found a gift under her pillow. _

_Serena insisted on taking me to see her handiwork. She led me to our parents' room…King Van you cannot imagine the horror that lay behind those doors. Upon opening them, nothing looked abnormal until I saw her footprints-in blood leading away from the bed." Allen visibly paled as the memories tumbled over themselves recreating a rather vicious play in his head. _

_"She had-murdered them both. They were stabbed multiple times…and my—my mother's stomach was-she carved it out." The bile rose in Allen's throat as he remembered everything with disturbing clarity. "I—I panicked and screamed…Serena started to laugh, to _giggle_ in fact. She said that this would promise that I had the throne." _

_"Serena had to be very young," Van stated, knowing she had been, but it was to get Allen back into present day. _

_"Yes," Allen confirmed, "Not yet a teenager. I never imagined anyone capable of such cruelty. When I started to scream and demand to know _why_ she said it was for me. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to handle this darker side, but she only laughed harder saying that she was going to say one of the maids-a mistress to Donkirk-had blindly killed them in a fit of jealousy." _

_Allen shuddered, his hair on his arms rising as if he were cold. _

_"I couldn't believe she had thought this through so thoroughly. I left. I had no reason to stay. I packed a few things and left that country. It was only later I heard of a report that there was a warrant out for my arrest. Serena apparently did not like my choice of action and told the high court that __**I**__ had killed them out of jealousy for never being king." _

_Van had stood up quickly, nearly knocking his chair over. He knew Serena was deceitful and deadly but to actually __**murder**__? Her own mother! Didn't that girl have a heart? What would make any one so cruel? _

_"So you cannot return to Zaibach?" _

_Allen grunted, "No, I can go back at any time. When Serena was named the next heir to the throne a few years ago, she pardoned me in an attempt to get me to go back." _

_"Why are you here now?" _

_"Because you needed to know, because I will not have my name soiled further due to my disturbed sister. She has done things in my name that has led many to death. As a knight of Asturia, my honor will not allow this to continue." _

"King Van?" one of his general's questioned him as he stepped down to the ground. Allen was by his side, also donning a mask of apathy. "Wh-what was that?"

The mahogany-red eyes searched his soldier's face.

"What was _what_?" Van's voice gave no amusement or even interest. He was angry and annoyed, and more or less still murderous. Just because the little princess decided she wanted things _her_ way, thousands of men, women, and children had perished in a blaze of fire.

"Y-you had _wings_."

Van gave the man a leveled look before pushing past him with Allen in tow, toward his tent.

"He's a _Draconian_," another man whispered bitterly. "_He's_ the reason we've had all this bad luck."

More than one man nodded in agreement as, behind their King's back, they gave him rather blistering looks. Their loyalty to Fanelia was and would always be rock solid, but as for the King-the _Draconian-_it was starting to chisel away.

* * *

"What are you saying?" Armand questioned after he had galloped his horse in front of hers to make them stop.

Hitomi dipped her head, shoulders sagging as she did so.

"I think you heard me clearly the first time."

"Apparently _not_," the man all but growled. "I think I have road dust in my ears or you have it _between_ yours. What in the ninth _realm_ do you mean you don't want to see King Van!" with every word, his voice picked up in volume.

The blonde woman winced, her fiery spirits perked at the fight in his voice.

"I'll _kill_ him!"

"Only if you _cook_ for him!" Armand shot back. He had fallen ill for two days after she prepared their meal one night, Hitomi had apologized through her tears and laughter as the knight turned grey.

Her green eyes flashed with her barely controlled demon of wrath.

"I got distracted!" she huffed, shook her head as if to clear her mind from his distracting ways. "I won't go. I don't want to hurt him."

_You can't kill royalty,_ Armand had to remind himself, but another wicked thought of, _Who else besides you know she's alive?_

The queen leaned back slightly, away from the increasingly insane look in her knight's eyes. There was also a tick of his left eyebrow that seemed to have formed over the past weeks.

He snapped back to reality as his blue eyes studied her dirty face.

"What is with the sudden change of heart?"

"I-I saw something last night." Armand's cheeks started to turn pink under a rather boyish thought. "A vision of Van dying, after rescuing-someone."

"And you are the slayer?" his voice was only barely veiled boredom. "I would consider you too sluggish to even be able to get the jump on him."

"No! I don't know! I think I'm going to be the _reason_ he'll be killed!" She was in near tears and Armand huffed. The image of Van's dead eyes before and after the black winged man killed him chilled her. Those gorgeous garnet eyes were so frigid as if he had nothing left to lose.

"I can't believe you are so worked up over a little nightmare," Armand moaned, running his hand over his shortened hair.

"It was _just_ a nightmare! It was-a vision," Hitomi defended, digging her heels into her horse to make it go again. "Van seemed so—lifeless. There was so much blood…and then there was a baby."

"Oh, well, then!" Armand started, waving his hands around in emphasis. "That _must_ have been the unborn heir since no other woman on the face of Gaea could possibly be _pregnant_ or even have a _baby_. Oh for sure they could not."

The slight sadness that dampened the air evaporated as Hitomi glared at the brunette as he continued to rave. She closed her eyes and shook her head from side to side. The young life within her kicked and caused her to grunt. Sometimes it felt like the child had an extra set of arms or legs that constantly pounded against her skin.

"I've got it!" Armand proclaimed in mid-rant, snapping his fingers with success. "You are just saying this so that you may spend more time with me!"

Hitomi made an inarticulate noise of surprise in the back of her throat.

"Now, now, you are a _married_ woman, your majesty. You will just have to live with your unrequited love and lust for me."

Her eye ticked, "Die!"

* * *

It had been four days since Allen had anchored at the Fanelia/Zaibach camp. Folken had been—irked about the newest development. He knew the knight would come sooner or later, but he had not planned on it being _so_ soon. With one of Serena's goals reached, to get her brother back, there was precious little time to complete his own goal.

His brother was right below, easily within grasp, but he didn't want a brain-washed, hard-core brother. Folken wanted the supportive, gentle brother he had always known. If allowed to 'play' with Serena too much longer, she would taint him again with her devious little plots and plans.

The two neko warriors were bowed before him, retelling all they heard and saw down below.

"…and this is all from Asturia?" the blue haired man questioned.

"Yes. They appear to be relieved the attacks and battles have slowed." A wicked smile drew across her face as the mischief reached into her eyes. "But I hear that Freid is starting to pressure them about Prince Chid."

"And Fanelia and Zaibach?"

The other sister perked up and her expression matched her sibling's face.

"They are also relieved. King Van and Prince Allen have locked themselves in the map tent and have only come out for food and to relieve themselves from that food." Her mouth drew down into a slight frown. "But the red-headed woman is no longer at the camp. I couldn't pick up any fresh scent of hers. The faint trail I picked up was mingled with one of the soldiers."

Folken's impassive expression and his slight shrug told of his indifference to the fate of the Queen of Slena. She was of no use to him. If one of the random soldiers decided they could no longer do without a woman and had fun with her, that was their choice and she was foolish to fall for it.

"Also," the woman continued, her voice softening. "Dilandau has gone missing again."

That secured his interest. "Oh? For how long?"

"Since Prince Allen arrived."

His eyes narrowed into thin slits. Serena was acting independently again and that would cause trouble. Twisting around, so his back faced his two most loyal soldiers, Folken drew his upper lip back in a near snarling action.

"I want you to watch Princess Serena. Inform me at once if she leaves the camp," Folken instructed Naria who nodded in understanding and then he dismissed her. "Eriya."

"My lord," she purred.

"I want you to find Dilandau." He moved to the window, studying the patches of brown tents spotted against the green field.

There was something in the way he instructed her that led her to believe the order was just a foretaste of things to come. "And?"

"Kill him." Peering over his shoulder, studying her shocked expression he gave a small smile. "He has out lived his usefulness."

If Serena wanted to play then, Folken thought darkly, he would simply break her favorite toy to teach her who was the real game-master.

* * *

Mena was dumped unceremoniously to the ground in front of blonde princess who glanced down at her with lowered eyelids. Even with candles all around the throne, her face was draped in shadow, giving the woman an ominous appearance.

The woman huddled on the floor lifted her head slowly, her dark eyes searched for something in the other female's face. Whatever it was she sought, she didn't find as the last wisp of hope was extinguished.

"I hear you did not complete your end of the bargain," the princess stated in a cold, calculated, and harsh tone.

Mena winced. She was, after all, just a farm girl who married well and wasn't used to heartless treatment of royalty.

"I did as much as I could," she confessed, but her voice was light and lacked conviction.

"Oh? Your unexpected appearance to Van and then _pushing_ for Fanelia to join Zaibach was all you could do?" There was pure mockery in the voice though it held no humor. "Then it is no wonder your kingdom was burned from the face of the planet."

Tears stung the hazel eyes of the misplaced Queen. She failed to protect her people, her husband and her baby. Everything that meant anything to her was withered and burned right in front of her. She, in a move of pure desperation, had sought help in the one kingdom she thought was strong enough to oppose Zaibach, Asturia.

Only they had the allies, the power, and the ability to tear Zaibach down before it could threaten her home. It had been a fool hardy hope. _They_ turned on her. Even though the princess, Eries, who was before her insisted they did not destroy her home— still they had plans of leaving Slena a bloody smear, it's just that someone got to the kingdom before Asturia could.

If it hadn't been the _other_ side that destroyed Slena, Asturia would have. They were going to destroy the kingdom as an act of prevention. They would kill, pillage, and devastate just to protect Asturia.

Mena bowed her head further down. She would never have dreamed about going to Asturia after that but they had found the one fail-safe bargaining chip, her daughter.

"You even try to seduce King Van, correct?"

Mena's wet eyes finally let the barely restrained tears slip down her face. It was her shame. She had no desire to tempt the king but it was a last resort to sidetrack the already diverted warrior.

It hadn't worked and she stumbled out of the tent with her shame so tangible she could swear she felt its jagged pieces piercing her skin. Then, then the unholy leader himself found her.

Dilandau.

He had _not_ been pleased when he realized what happened. She would have tried anything to avoid his wrath, having seen him cut a man down minutes after Princess Serena had run into his tent after the man had made a rather lude comment.

So when he found her, grabbed her, and forced her into the shadows of the forest, she thought her life was over. Instead, he stalked through the woods, Mena in tow, and after hours of walking had thrown her down on an unknown road.

"Don't come back," he spat through his faceplate. Dilandau pointed toward the right of her and told her Asturia was in that direction and to the left was what remained of Fanelia. His voice, though she didn't think it was possible, dropped into a lower note as he added, "Pick your alliances carefully."

He _knew_ about her.

"Well?" Eries inquired, her tone uninflected by emotions. "Have you no defense for your actions?"

"I have nothing to offer," she replied meekly.

"And nothing left to lose," Eries added, standing up to her full height as she walked directly in front of the Queen. "Except your child."

Mena winced.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out about her? About whom you left her with?" Eries questioned. "I _will_ find them." She promised and snapped her fingers. The two guards behind Mena roughly grabbed her under her arms and hauled her to her feet. "But I'm not done with you yet. You still have one or two more uses."

Tears started to fall from the Queen's eyes as these words were spoken.

Would this nightmare _ever_ end?

After a few moments of quick explanation, Eries left the room. She didn't like to play the bad guy, she hated to dirty her hands with blood, but this was for the betterment of her kingdom. She would sell her soul to the darkest creature if it meant Asturia would survive.

Her father was too distracted by the battles to pay attention to the war. Eries took it upon herself to be the defender and even though she could not go to the battle field, she could pull strings, manipulate those who were weaker than she. Her threats to Mena were golden and true, but even now her mind whirled with the possibilities of failure.

If Mena didn't go through with what she had been ordered to, Eries would have to reevaluate and strive to reapply her plans in more capable hands. _But_ if Mena came through, Eries had that map all lain out. If the Queen blamed Asturia, Eries could always say it was the delusions of grieving widow.

Swallowing hard, the woman walked into her room and was greeted with a mirror. Her reflection hadn't changed, but she found it unbearable. Grabbing her dressing robe, Eries covered her mirror and stepped away. Her determination was solid. A heart and soul was nothing to weep over at a time like this.

"One must be a monster to defeat a monster." A self-condemning statement to herself and all those she was going to take down with her.

* * *

"Do you realize what fish do in a lake?" Armand groused, his eyes closed as he leaned on a tree near the lake.

Hitomi was currently stripping down to nothing behind a bush, intent on dipping into warm lake waters. The sun stones Van had shown her on their trip to Slena littered the bottom of this small lake and made it pleasantly warm.

"I don't care. I just want to smell like a female again." Hitomi sighed, tying her hair back. "Or at least better than a rotting corpse that has been left in the sun for a week."

"I wasn't aware you knew what females smelled like. Your horse usually asks for nose plugs," Armand pointed out half-heartedly and Hitomi questioned him on his soberness during such moments. Huffing, "And why did you just suddenly decide to bathe _now_?"

"Because you won't let us stay at an inn!" she chirped back, struggling out of her shirt.

"_You _are the one that keeps giggling and telling me that your stomach is dancing." The knight shifted on his feet. "There are just so many times I can say you are drunk and have gas."

A shoe flew in his general direction.

"Oh, look at me quiver." He rolled his eyes. There was a soft splash. Pushing himself off the tree, he slowly walked to the water's edge. She was swimming around, happy as a duck under the current. He couldn't see anything (not as if he was desperately trying to look having already seen the royal pain-in-the-neck-rump-and-other-parts-of-the-body stark naked) but blobs of color. It was just past dusk, plenty of light for a quick dip without being too bright to illuminate details of the swimmer.

When she popped up, Hitomi glanced over her shoulder and those bright eyes darkened.

"Do you mind? Go back into the woods!" she ordered, and under her breath added. "Pervert."

"Oh, yes. Pregnant, irritating women are my fetish. You found me out." he deadpanned. To Hitomi it appeared as if he was casually glancing around the lake shore, but anyone who was trained could have noticed the calculating stare. Even the more serene of places could carry the deadliest of threats.

"I'd rather do this alone," she stated in a grumpy voice. Having been stuck with Armand day after day for very long time was starting to wear on her nerves (not to mention the stability of her mental state).

"Fine. I'll be close by—finding dinner. If you need something-scream for a turtle." With that he gave a short laugh, turned heel and went back into the woods.

Dipping her mouth below the surface, Hitomi let a few air bubbles escape her mouth. He was just _too_ weird. If the truth were known about the sudden need to bathe, Armand would have thrown her up on her saddle, clothes or not, and forced her to keep traveling. No matter what she had said, he wouldn't listen to her.

Van was going to die and it was because she was going to be there. Perhaps it was because of the baby…that broke her heart. If it ever became a choice, who would she choose? Van or their unborn child? She closed her eyes and tried to get those gloomy thoughts away from her for the moment.

Bad things came from bad thoughts. Isn't that what her Grandmother pounded into her head all those long and boring summers she spent at her old farm house?

Meanwhile, Armand had stalked into the woods, but not far enough to not be able to hear the slightest distress that the Queen might be in. He huffed when he figured that it was either going to be rabbit or fish _again_ and oh, how he longed for a four legged animal that mooed or whinnied or bahhed, _anything_ would be better than rabbit or fish _again_.

His stomach rumbled in protest, as if saying that as long as he didn't eat those cursed mushrooms and berries again, he should promptly shut up.

"Oh, be quiet," The brunette mumbled to his rebellious organ. Temporarily distracted, his father used to say, was completely off guard. It was by sheer dumb luck he heard the out of place _snap_ of a twig to his left.

Silently as could be, the man pressed himself against the nearest tree. He stretched his hearing as far as it would go, waited patiently while his blood screamed for him to make it back to the lake. His first duty was to protect the Queen and the unborn heir.

Biting back his urge, he rationalized that there might be more than one person out there and he could be ambushed and killed before he could be any help to his Queen.

Or maybe, he laughed at his paranoia, it was just a deer. Wouldn't a deer just be delicious? The last time he had almost gotten close to killing a deer, Hitomi had freaked out, and started to scream for the 'cute little deer' to run. He could have hurt her then and there but decided to take his frustrations out on a tree.

Yay, it was just a deer he huffed out with satisfaction.

"There's some cow in the water."

So much for the deer thought.

Grumbling, the man pressed himself tighter to the tree, his right hand sought the hilt of his sword. Why couldn't anything ever be easy with _her_ involved? After another minute or more, he finally pinned down that there were at least three males moving around, drawing closer to the lake's lip.

_Damn it!_ The man cursed, he couldn't move as easily as he was used to because of the injuries that still made him wince but he _had_ to do something. Even pregnant women were fair game to low-lives such as these men.

Creeping along from tree to tree, he finally saw Hitomi was still blissfully unaware she was a fish in a rather dangerous fish bowl. Grumbling to himself mentally, Armand jumped out of his skin when a small tap on his shoulder caused him to whirl around.

_Oh, gods_…the thought barely had time to cross the knight's mind before the cold, jagged fist of an armored hand came slamming down across the right side of his face. That was all it took for Armand to go down like a stone.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," the man spat, walking past the unconscious knight. With graceful steps, the armored man came to rest next to the other three.

"Oy, what do you want us to do, Sir Dilandau?" The man, a pale replacement to one of the Dragon Slayers, leered hopefully at the lake and the blonde woman swimming around in it.

Leaning against the nearest tree, the knight, behind his helmet, smiled. "Go fishing, boys."


	51. Dilandau

**Chapter 51**

* * *

The thing she hated most of all was being watched like a disobedient puppy.

It was almost _insulting_ how obvious it was after only few days. Whoever the watcher was didn't care if she knew, obviously, or they wouldn't have left such detectable differences in the small details. There were small pieces of evidence left around her tent. Small, gold hairs showing up on her black bed sheets, things going missing and bits of her meal being eaten behind her back and yet there was nothing Serena could do about it. With her stalker being somewhat careful about being actually _seen_ it was impossible for the princess to pinpoint where the watcher was hiding.

Any strange movement on Serena's part might tip off the stalker and then it would be hopeless to try and punish the follower. With Dilandau having gone off to do as she wished and seek out any information available on Van's little house-whore, she didn't even have the comfort of a protector's armor.

The princess glared out of the small opening left by her tent flap at her brother's ship. He had touched ground, but had not come to see her. Another irksome thing in her miniature, closed minded book. Without him, everything would go to waste. She had done _everything_ for him imaginable.

_Everything_.

She grinned a little as she thought back to her first act of mercy to her brother involving their 'mother' and step-father. He never even questioned what happened to the baby she ripped out of that one's womb. The scientists were disturbed at first, but quickly found it amusing to test the clump of would-be human in Donkirk's machine.

At first, after her brother left and she was in charge of the entire country at such a tender age, she wanted to complete the dead Emperor's Fate machine. It didn't take long for her to grow bored and tired with the massive mechanism.

Fate shouldn't be able to be controlled by anyone who knew how to control one machine. The scientists had sung her praises soon were cursing her to a painful death when she destroyed it. Actually, _Dilandau_ had destroyed it.

Serena wanted to control fate, but with her own capable hands. She had always done everything on her own why should she start to rely on science now?

The grin grew into a smirk as she leaned back in the chair. Crossing her arms, she sighed in boredom. If Dilandau didn't come back soon she was going to go out of her mind and take her mysterious stalker with her.

Whether it was Van, Allen, or Folken's henchman, she didn't care. As long as the annoying creature got out of her hair and out of her way in order to complete her plans.

* * *

"Armand?" Hitomi questioned when she finally stopped trying to get the water between her hands to squirt when she squeezed them together. The woods had fallen quiet. Her skin started to prick with fear. Normally, the only time a forest was silent was when there was a predator around.

"If you think this if funny, I'll force you to eat my cooking!" she shouted out, hoping the self-degrading humor would jar a few words out of the ever moving mouth.

Still silence.

To stay in the water, where she was semi-safe or to get out, dressed, and hope there wasn't a dragon sitting on a bolder picking its teeth with Armand's bones and looking for dessert. Then a question struck between her eyebrows.

Did dragons swim?

_Could_ they swim?

Alligators could and they were reptiles so what would stop a dragon from diving in for a little snack?

_Stop it!_ Hitomi commanded herself, forcing her rapidly beating heart to calm down or quit, and since she didn't like _one_ of the options.

"Armand, you pompous priss! Show yourself _this instant_!"

"I'm afraid that this 'Armand' character is-unable to come at the moment." A man with black hair, a thick build, and more moles than should be allowed on one human came sauntering out of the forest line.

"Will I do, ducky?" He gave her a grin and even from the distance, she could still tell he believed whole-heartedly in letting one's teeth go 'natural' by lack of dental hygiene.

"Wh-what did you do with him!" she barked out, glad to have stayed in the water. Her hands flew to cover her chest as she ducked down in the water until only everything above her nose stuck out.

Another man popped out of the woods and made a bee-line for her clothes.

Well, _damn_, she thought bitterly as he picked up every article and held it against him to test the fit—even, and most disturbingly enough, her undergarments. When he got to the wig, he placed on top of his bald head and gave his buddy a look for approval.

After a good laugh about the wig, the second man threw it back on the pile, and leered at the petite blonde in the water.

"She's on the pretty side."

Okay, even if they had been semi-attractive, not hygienically challenged, and not currently the cause of her fear, Hitomi would have been more hurt about the fact they thought she was just 'on the pretty side'. She didn't have a large ego, Armand made sure of that, but _still_! Like those green teethed morons had any right to judge her!

She shook her head clear of those thoughts. The rubbish was now stepping into the safety of the water. The Queen felt her heart crawl up her throat and threaten to swim away. She couldn't go any further into the water without having to swim constantly which meant that she wouldn't be able to defend herself without drowning.

The baby in her womb kicked out then, feeling her distress.

"Looks like we won't be bored tonight, right, Bonc?" The first man laughed, drawing closer.

He slowly peeled off his shirt, intent on claiming her for his own when a gurgled scream stop the world cold.

A _thud_.

The soft snaps and crunches brought about by walking in the thickly grown forest. Someone in the dark was still lurking and Hitomi knew she was in mortal trouble.

From the woods emerged a man whose armor almost glowed like fire in the setting reds and oranges of the sun. The midnight blue of his shirt and pants only made the vibrant red of his armor that covered his shoulders, arms and lower legs stand out like blood on a white carpet. The helmet he wore was mainly red, black accents detailing the edges of the cuts and a golden thick golden band across where she could only guess his forehead was. Red and black, she knew, were the colors of danger in the wild.

If it wasn't, Hitomi was sure this guy could make it so.

"Wh-who are you?" her voice didn't reach his ears.

"What was _that_?" the second man asked, jarring Hitomi back to the scream they heard before. The first man was about waist deep into the water and heading her way quickly.

"I was taking care of a small problem. Why is she still in the water?"

That jumpstarted the first man and he treaded water like a dying dog. Hitomi didn't want to move but she couldn't do much else. She didn't want to run the risk of being killed by being evasive, and swimming to the sides was out of the question.

He gripped her arm and hauled her back in the direction of the beach. Humiliation filled her from her wet blond hair to her naked toes.

"C-can I have my clothes?" she asked, after being hauled between the three men. She was on her legs, her arms covered her chest, and her swelled stomach protected her lower parts from hungry eyes.

"Why?" one man asked, using one finger to trace her spine. She shivered in disgust.

"Retrieve her clothing," the armored, and most likely the leader, instructed. Bonc, the second man, moved past the naked woman and in the next minute, lay dead before her.

She blinked as if she got sand in her eyes.

It wasn't until the armored man leaned down and wiped the blade on the dead man's pants leg that the second man exclaimed, "Ya-you killed him!"

"Perceptive, aren't you?" the armored one shot. The fat man unsheathed his own sword and charged, shoving Hitomi out of the way in order to get a better angle.

"Dilandau! You _traitor!_"

He never stood a chance.

"I would first have to be on your side before I could be called a traitor to it," Dilandau breathed out heavily, yanking his sword free. The fat man fell to the ground in a blood soaked heap next to his partner.

Hitomi didn't know what to do or where to go. She couldn't jump back into the water, not with all the blood that was slowly creeping into it. Whatever meat-seeking man eater might be lurking around would definitely be attracted to the smell, and running through the woods as naked as a new born baby just _screamed_ for more trouble-even if it did seem rather impossible to find _more_ than she had right now.

The queen wished she could do something to defend herself, but her large stomach made it rather hard to do since she had no weapon. Not even the normal female tactics of clawing the person's face, pulling their hair, or kneeing them in the groin seemed likely.

"Your majesty," came a familiar voice, albeit muffled through the mask. Hitomi, already in a state of frozen shock, fell back as the soldier bent down on one knee after sheathing his sword. "I'm so happy to see you alive…and…well."

Her breath caught in her throat, but hope hopped around clapping when a certain brunette crept out of the woods and placed the tip of his blade to the back of the man's neck.

"Get up," Armand twitched to simply run the man through but he didn't want to shower the Queen in blood and be blamed for the nightmares it would cause. Her nagging was to be avoided at any cost!

The armored man stood up slowly, his hands lifted in surrender.

"Who are you?" Armand's voice was deep, his real voice. It was the one that meant business.

"Allow me to remove my helmet, otherwise you won't believe me," the man stated, his voice shaking.

Blue eyes met with green, and the woman nodded slowly.

"Unhook his belt, your majesty."

She gave him a highly suspicious glare but did as she was told.

"I meant his sword belt, majesty."

She huffed, undid the second belt, and allowed it to drop by the man's feet. She gathered it to her chest and held it tightly, her nakedness temporarily forgotten.

"Very well now, take your helmet off, _slowly_. One suspicious move and you won't have to worry about your mask." He looked over at the Queen and instructed her to get dressed while this took place.

She did so, and gratefully.

With measured movements, the knight unlatched the metal locks holding his helmet on and keeping his identity safe. Even more slowly, he pulled it from his head and in a moment, both Armand and Hitomi felt their jaws fall open.

There stood one of the most feared warriors of the current war, unmasked, and grinning. It was a familiar grin in a young face, one that they never thought to see again.

"_Jill_!" the Queen and Knight screamed out in unison.

* * *

Van stood near the flap of the tent, arms crossed, and his eyes nearly glazed over from lack of attention to the present. His mind kept playing the day he saw his country fall. The way Allen's guymelef gutted the palace and the sheer cruelty of all involved.

His inner demons wouldn't let him just torture himself with the fact Hitomi was dead, but his inner eye kept blurring with images of his wife being crushed, burned, pierced, and other ghastly ways of dying. The vivid scenarios all ended the same way, with the light slowly seeping out of her vibrant jade eyes and her last breath being one calling out to him.

He was _right there_ and couldn't help. He wasn't fast or skilled enough to protect the highest promise he made. She was _dead_. No one could have survived that.

"…we have to make Serena go before the Court of Countries," Allen's voice sliced through his self torture. "It is the only way."

The Court of Countries was the highest realm of justice on Gaea. Though rarely called together, it was a collection of all the country heads, every king and queen along with dukes and duchesses and so forth. Only when a royal house was seen as doing something unfavorable and morally unbearable was the Court called together. The punishment was harder than it needed to be but it served its purpose as a deadly warning to the rest of Gaea's ruling heads.

Serena's case would be easy to make, _if_ they found the missing guymelef in the possession of Zaibach and _if_ they could get a trusted Zaibach higher-up to testify. Only one person came to Van's mind and that was Dilandau.

When Van mentioned the name to Allen, the knight visibly flinched.

Allen wasn't telling him something. This would have bothered Van if it wasn't for the fact that he too was withholding information.

Van had, from the moment he found out it was _her_ who was behind everything, planned to go in front of the Court instead of her, for murder.

The Princess of Zaibach would be his victim.

When the first opportunity presented itself, he would cut her down swift and surely. It didn't matter how many people saw as long as it happened. His people and his homeland deserved to be respected, which meant the Courts -but Hitomi-Hitomi deserved to be avenged. She never asked to be Queen nor did she ask to be a statistic of the war. If only he had turned his advisors down. Hitomi would be back with her family safe, warm, and most importantly, alive.

He didn't want to have to use his reason as a King, Van wanted to be just another man taking out his depression and anger on the object of it all.

"Dilandau won't work with us willingly unless we have something to bargain with," Allen muttered; by now he realized he was being pretty much totally ignored. "And considering he has no lover, no dear friends—there is very little we can do with him."

"His life."

Allen jumped slightly at Van's low voice. "What?"

Cinnamon eyes met sky blue.

"We capture him and threaten to kill him. Most people will do anything to survive."

The blonde stuttered in surprise, it was _obvious_. Cold-hearted, downright dirty and painfully _obvious_ but, without a second thought, war did make monsters of men.

"I—suppose we could be threatening enough if he can't be rationalized with." Allen leaned back in his chair, his mind already whirling with the details of the trap for the General Knight. It wasn't as easy as going over to the Zaibachian side of the camp, binding and gagging the man, dragging him back to the Crusade, and forcing the man to talk. _That_ would be a bit too obvious.

It would take them only a few more hours to bang out the proper way to go about capturing a blood thirsty, sword wielding maniac of a man. In the end, they came up

* * *

"So why did you _have_ to punch me?" Armand groused, his sore cheek still throbbing. After a quick mention that they had to get moving to deflect any suspicions from those who Jill worked for, the trio saddled up the horses and were on the road yet again. Hitomi was dressed as a man once more, complete with wig, but lacking the sour smell.

"You're lucky I even recognized you, _Sir_ Armand." Jill gave a coy smile, "Without all that wild hair flopping around like two dead ducks from the side of a dog's mouth, it was hard to tell who you were."

Armand glared.

"Punching you felt _really_ good!" Jill teased.

Armand glared harder at the mouthy knight.

"And I punched you because you would have attacked me and then I would have had to kill you." The smile grew to a grin, as Armand's blue eyes turned into figurative daggers.

"As if you could, you were always a second rate swordsman," Armand huffed, crossing his arms. Hitomi gave a small smile. The knight's pride was hurt, he was a higher ranking knight of Fanelia and for Jill to drop him must have stung his pride like a knife through the thumb.

"And yet, I still was able to get a solid punch in," Jill teased.

Armand continued to glare.

Jill glared backed.

Hitomi sighed; it was like babysitting two little brothers.

"How did you find us?" Hitomi questioned, trying to break the tension. She didn't ask about the three dead bodies by the small lake. Never had she imagined anyone could take another's life without batting an eye. The only reason she did not completely lose what little control she had left after being touched and ogled by a bunch of depraved mountain men, was she recalled she was in the company of knights. Their first duty was to protect her at any cost.

And it was her fault those men had died. They were protecting _her_ from _them_. _She_ came first. When the small, growing heir moved around a bit, as if flipping, Hitomi smiled and placed a hand on her swollen stomach. How silly for her to forget, the knights were putting _them_ first.

The baby rolled around a bit more, causing Hitomi to grunt. Sometimes it felt like the kid had two sets of arms.

"Yes, how did you find us?" Armand asked testily.

"I followed the trail of rumors of two men traveling together. One always seemed to be drunk and the other one a nervous wreck." The man shrugged. "That and I asked if there were any out-of-town people and from Fanelia to here, everyone said the same thing: two brunette girly men traveling together, heading in the opposite way of the kingdom."

"And you thought you were so clever," Hitomi deadpanned to Armand. He switched his blue daggers from Jill to the Queen.

"How did you become part of Zaibach?" Armand questioned, a sudden unfriendly tension filling the air of the forest.

Jill's shoulders tensed.

"Oh, that. I was wondering when you'd ask." He gave a long, dramatic sigh. "It was, obviously, after I was rather politely _kicked out_ of the country. I had been trying to figure out why anyone would want to frame _me_ of all people."

"Because you were an easy target," Armand said flatly, earning him yet another glare.

"Says the man who was ambushed by a _kid _in his own bedroom, but I digress. Whatever it was, it worked. But I don't think it had to be me, I think I was a convenient scapegoat for the kingdom but thankfully King Van _reassigned_ me instead of killing me. When I was on my way to my new assignment, my camp was attacked—by a bear of all things. I killed the creature and sold its hide because a room in an inn is better than a tent in the middle of the woods."

"That would explain why we found your campsite destroyed and all that rot," Armand concluded outloud.

"I was going to write, but then I stumbled upon some people who were a tad more interesting. The inn I chose to stay at had Princess Serena and her top General staying there." Jill cleared his throat and ducked his head, "I was on my way to my room when I heard them talking about King Coron and Slena. The man swore he wouldn't destroy it and the princess did not seem to like his idea."

"Obviously," Armand rolled his eyes, "That's why another _country_ did it."

"Wrong, Zaibach _did_ do it. I was there when they returned to camp." Shaking his head, the man continued. "When I addressed the princess at the inn, she was furious I was alive still, but decided to allow me this position of Dilandau because I knew the inner workings of the Fanelian army. She thought I would prove 'invaluable' if the time ever came where push came to shoving a sword down someone's throat."

Hitomi winced.

"But— you _are_ Dilandau, correct?" Armand's eyebrows knit in confusion. Rumors of the knight were much older than Jill's service with Zaibach.

"Currently, it seems as if they just recycle 'Dilandau' whenever the position comes open. They say there is a _true_ Dilandau, but he hides in the shadows until things get really hairy." The man slowed his horse, reached behind him to grab the helmet, and snapped it into place. "We're close."

"What should we do?" Hitomi felt the panic take root in her heart. If Jill had easily chopped down three men then what would the rest of the army be like? What would _Van _be like after all this mess?

"Stay close, keep your head down, and do not take anything I say personally while I am wearing this." He tapped the side of his helmet. "It's just an act for the soldiers."

They did as they were told and no one gave them more than a passing glance. They were curious but no one _ever_ questioned Dilandau about his methods unless they wanted to become another tragic victim of stupidity.

Dismounting, he barked for two of the stable boys to collect their horses. When asked about the three missing soldiers, Dilandau grabbed one boy by the ragged shirt collar and pressed him close to his face mask.

"_Never_ ask me questions," the deeper resonance to Jill's voice made the Queen fidget and draw closer to her knight. "Or are you so eager to _die_?"

"N-no my lord!" When released, the boy scurried off toward his partner, a wet trail down his leg as proof of his fear.

The armored man led them to a tent, where they told them to wait. No one would disturb them because they were too close to the Princess' sleeping quarters. They nodded in understanding just about the time Hitomi's stomach rumbled.

Jill, behind the mask, gave a soft smile and a gentle chuckle.

"I guess the young heir is hungry," he stated.

Hitomi blushed and nodded causing Armand to proclaim and sigh dramatically that she was _always_ hungry. "I'll be right back, I'll just instruct the cook to bring you something."

He ducked out of the tent and Hitomi and Armand breathed an easy breath for the first time in months.

"Do you think I'll get to see Van?" she prodded.

Armand sighed, leaning back on one of the sleeping mats, "Possible. But I warn you, he probably won't be the same man who left you. War is an ugly matter, your majesty."

She closed her eyes as she curled up on another mat. It smelled like dirty, unkept hair, but it was better than the forest beds they'd been sleeping on. In a matter of minutes both Fanelians were sleeping soundly.

* * *

It was less than half an hour later when the princess was seen storming through the camp like on-the-hunt lioness.

Serena had growled in anger as she stalked through the camp. The soldiers fell over themselves to get away from her and the proverbial thunderstorm which hung over her head. She was in a _foul_ mood. This had been the case for several days.

Most of the men chalked it up to her missing knight, Dilandau, but didn't dare mention anything to her about him being back. The way she was stomping around and throwing daggers with her ice blue eyes made them zip their lips tightly.

Even if they knew _he_ was back, she would find out on her own.

She approached her tent, but stopped cold when a light breeze brought a faint scent of one thing she knew well.

Blood. Slightly old, but it had been within the last few hours.

For it to be carried on such a faint wind there had to be a lot of it. Gritting her teeth, Serena continued to her tent slowly, pulled back the flap, and struggled to breathe.

He had returned to her! Dilandau was back!

He was also dead.

That put a damper on her happy mood.

Dilandau blood was splattered all over their things. Maps were blotched, clothes stained, and his skin was too pale. Progressing into the tent, she allowed the flap to fall closed behind her. With measured movements, Serena stopped at her knight's body and slowly bent down on her knees, gingerly turning his face toward hers.

She pushed the hood of her cape off her head, so she could clearly see him.

Trembling fingers pried the metal clasps free and soon she was able to pull off the helmet. His face was still beautiful and clear of the red liquid that seeped from his chest. Upon a moment's observation of the wounds she concluded it had been a creature. It was obvious as she placed her hand on the large, long gashes of the killing stroke. Four claw marks raked down the middle of his chest, another four across his stomach.

Jill's eyes were still opened and a look of shock still covered his expression. This had _just_ happened, probably less than twenty minutes before her arriving at the tent. His skin was still warm as she gently stroked it, closing his eyes with her fingertips. Serena, in a rare act of femininity and kindness, leaned over the prone figure and brushed her lips against his.

When she sat up again, running her fingers through his unruly hair, the woman was already acutely aware of the person behind her.

"For being the greatest of your warriors, he was too easy to kill." The princess' eyes locked on the floor in front of her, her shoulders tensed as a million death soaked ideas spun around her mind at a pleasantly mind boggling rate. "He barely set foot in the tent before I attacked."

Serena's left hand rested on his torn up chest as the other one slowly reached for his left side.

"Nothing to say?"

"Are you the one who has been following me?" Serena questioned, trying to make her voice sound frail, her hand now firmly on the hilt of Dilandau's sword.

"No, that would be my sister," the female purred, edging closer to the harmless princess. Having fulfilled her assignment as given to her by Lord Folken, she had spare time to play and what better a toy than a grieving human?

"I see." Serena's eyes flickered, but the silver haired neko couldn't see them shift in color. "So you were to kill Dilandau and your sister was to watch me?"

"My, but you are a clever one," Eriya purred, her tail swishing slowly behind her.

The woman expected many things, angry words or sorrowful tears, but not a low, bridging on amused chuckle. It was almost a masculine sound that bubbled out of the blonde princess.

Everything flashed and then there was pain.

The neko's eyes were large in disbelief as she stared at the princess with the dangerous smile. Golden eyes flickered from the female to the sword that was now buried to the hilt in her soft stomach.

"Nice try," Serena's mouth stretched into a grin that made the other female feel more fear than she had ever known. "But next time when you kill a man, make sure it is the _correct_ man."

"Ya-you!" the neko forced out, spots appearing in her vision as she felt the sword being smoothly removed from her.

"My," Serena chuckled, her eyes a blazing scarlet. "But you are a clever one."

The neko coughed, trying to clear her throat of the blood that clogged it. The princess rested the sword on her shoulder, watching the female neko struggle to hold on to life.

"Did you watch him die?" Serena's eyes narrowed. "Did you like it? Knowing you had such power, even as a _female_, to take away something as irreplaceable as a life?" The silver haired cat-woman doubled over, her forehead rested by her knees as her blood covered her legs. "Too bad then, you would have made a great warrior for me."

With a shrug, the princess watched the neko slump over to the side, dead.

"Lord Dilandau?" A concerned voice beckoned from the outside. The Princess held the blade up to her face, her reflection shimmering in the red stained metal. The scarlet eyes lead to no mistaking that she was _murderous_.

"I am all right," she stated with her voice as even and low as she could manage.

"I have served the guests their meal, though both were asleep. Is there anything else you require?"

Guests?

"No, that will be all," Serena answered. Turning toward Jill, she grunted as she stripped him of the armor and sword belt that distinguished him as Dilandau. He had been a needed decoy, a simple player of the part to keep Van off her trail. The Fanelian knight had been amazingly loyal and quite the entertainer when she was in need of personal_ physical_ attention, it hurt her in a small way to lose him.

Plunging into her chest of clothes, she retrieved her body suit and quickly dressed.

Serena gave a sharp sneer as she pulled on the armor. Grabbing the helmet, she rubbed a small patch of blood off of the metal before placing it over her head and closed the face plate.

No one would know the difference.

Folken was playing dirty. If that was the case, she would have to find a way to one-up him. He wanted to be cold and cruel, then she would show him how to be so with gusto. She had not created Dilandau to be a kind, flower-planting knight, but a living blade who sought to strike down anyone who stood in the Princess' way of victory.

He would have some explaining to do.

And, she thought bitterly, the bodies in her tent would be hard to explain.

What could she say? A game of poker that had gotten out of hand with the high stakes?

Impossible.

Serena shrugged it off, knowing she would simply order some of the men to dispose of the bodies. They should burn them. Van would recognize his knight and Folken would wonder where his personal soldier had sauntered off to.

Then there was the dead neko's sister to deal with.

As she pushed the tent flap aside, shoving the sword back in its sheath, she couldn't help but grace the world with a cruel smile of cold triumph.

No longer was she the delicate rose of Zaibach, she was what she had been since she had murdered her mother and step-father.

She was, now and forever, Dilandau.

And apparently, Dilandau had guests.


	52. Older Sisters

**Chapter 52**

* * *

Wicked was too tame an expression to describe her smile. Sinister might have been better but still it would have been warm and fuzzy compared to the dark, swirling pit where her heart should have been.

Serena was a man on a mission.

Giving a few quick orders to clean up the bodies in her tent, she asked where her 'guests' were and then made her way to the appointed tent. Quietly, she glanced in where the two sleeping bodies lay.

Without a sound, she snuck into the tent and studied the face of the short haired man first.

She wanted to chuckle at the insanity of it all, he had survived.

The cockroach of Fanelia's royal army had survived.

The knight might have fooled anyone else who ever saw him, but she was introduced to him when his hair was about that length many years ago. It was Armand DeCri. The smug, selfish knight who had interfered with her plans one too many times. Oh, she was going to enjoy killing this one.

Turning toward the other person, she leaned down to inspect the person in his or her deep sleep as the light snore indicated. This man she didn't recognize. Eyes narrowing, she huffed in a mock annoyance. Armand wouldn't be traveling with a complete stranger, would he?

The strange man mumbled in his sleep and turned to the side, it was then that the pieces fell together. The smooth, straight blonde hair that poked out from beneath the brunette locks and a closer inspection of the stranger's face clenched together her suspicion.

The Queen of Fanelia had survived.

Dilandau would know his enemies face anywhere and if Jill wasn't already dead, Serena would have killed him for being deceptive.

Jolting up, Dilandau had to suppress the urge to growl as he hastily left the tent, not caring whether either of the people stirred at his departure. He had to think. The best way to do that was be by himself. If he was around others, Dilandau knew himself too well to know he would chop people in half and set them on fire if he got too irritated.

This new development with the Queen and her knight would undoubtly provide the leverage against Folken she was looking for, but a thought slithered through her mind, perhaps she could swap the Queen for Van—an even bigger bargaining chip against Folken.

She paused in her stalking about and gave this a deeper consideration. If she handed the Queen over to the Fanelia side then they would have the heir, if the woman's stomach was any indication to her 'delicate' state. If Dilandau handed the woman to Folken, she would, perhaps, get the annoying creature who was tailing her off her case.

Indeed, this was something to ponder over.

* * *

King Aston sighed deeply, shaking his head.

What had set this all off? When had Gaia transformed from a peaceful world into a blood soaked valley of war?

So many kingdoms were destroyed, the ruling families scattered to the wind, and the ashes of their people along with them.

Without a true word of explanation his only living daughter, Eries, had saddled up and ridden off with what remained of the once proud army. She had assured her father that, with his faith and soldiers, she would bring victory back to Asturia.

He had yet to feel that assurance.

She had an informant, a Queen, which knew the exact whereabouts of the heart of their foes. All it took was a few lies to bring the Queen into a fountain of tears as she told them everything they knew.

The truth of the matter was they had no idea where her child was hidden. Eries had fathomed that Mena left it with someone she trusted and the only ones to come to mind would have been family. According to their sources, her family had disowned her a few years ago because she ran off with a boy who was supposedly a peasant only to later reveal himself as the king of Slena.

But what did it matter now? Using children as a wager in war seemed low, even though that is what he was doing. Never in a thousand years had he picture the entire world coming down to this. Fanelia and Zaibach hadn't made a direct attack, but they had wormed their way into his castle and choices.

Zaibach never told the truth, he knew that from the start, but still he did everything they requested. They wanted Allen arrested, he was. It was only as an afterthought that the King decided not to hand over the knight when requested.

Dear gods, the old king muttered in his mind. In a matter of days, the whole of Gaea's future would be decided. For once the smug king was not as sure of his triumph.

* * *

Van sharpened his sword in rhythmically slow motions. Never had he imagined his father's sword would see so much battle-time when it was handed to him. He had a country to protect, men to lead, and vengeance to take. All of his ambitions depended upon a keen mind and a sharp sword.

Unfortunately, through his silent, dutiful sharpening, his ears had picked up several whispered words. The men were uneasy and had been so since he had attacked Allen's ship.

They knew.

All those at the camp knew about his cursed linage.

After everything his mother, his brother, and he had done to hide it from the people of Fanelia it had gone to waste in a moment of blinded rage. The King could kick himself repeatedly for being a fool about it, but then again, the past was the past. There was nothing he could do about it so there was no need to think about changing it.

The sword slipped, slicing the pad of his thumb. Van cursed and shook his head, as if trying to clear it from the thoughts and ghosts haunting his mind. Studying the injured digit, Van noted that perhaps the sword was sharp enough and quickly sheathed it.

Sighing, the dark haired man stood up and picked up the gloves he had discarded and tugged one on. Rechecking his injury, he rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath. The healer would have to put some salve on it. After numerous battles, it was a slip up sharpening his own blade that made him go see the healer.

Tucking the glove through his belt, he started toward the healer's tent. The men mostly ignored him as it was mealtime and they were enjoying the temporary peace brought about through a quite Asturia.

It was during this brisk walk his ears were filled with more venomous words. Van knew the voice well; it was one of his leaders and one of the most vocal about the King's blight.

"…cursed race," the old soldier spat to his younger comrades. "If this was our good ole, normal King, we wouldn't've had to worry about nothin'."

The speaker was unaware of the shadows that covered the presence of the King as the man listened intently.

"But—" a younger man started, looking at his comrades for support, "—he hasn't done anything foolish."

"He started us in this damn war!" the old man barked. "Our home was destroyed because of him."

"There's no proof," another chipped in.

"If you ask me, I think we should just leave the Draconian here to destroy himself. Damn race should've been wiped out."

That was it, Van's eyes narrowed, his hand on his hilt.

Every man went silent and rigid when they heard a sword clearing the sheath.

"Is there a problem?" Van's voice was a deep, dark baritone as he slowly stepped from the shadows into the fire's glow. The flames reflected menacingly from the smooth metal blade.

All the men's eyes flickered from the King's face to the sword and back again.

"N-no, sire," one of the boys' squeaked.

"I think there is," his tone was warm with warning and dark with meaning.

The old soldier stood up, his shoulders rolled back, and his chin tilted high.

"I was jus' tellin' them the how I saw things, your majesty."

"Ah," came Van's reply, a frown pulled his lips down slightly. "Then shall I tell you how I see things?"

The man gave one curt nod.

"What I see is one old, opinionated soldier spreading his _defiance_ and his _disloyalty_ to those who are willing to listen." Van tilted his head to stare at his sword as he brought it up to his face in a false inspection. "I would hate to have to _weed out_ those who defy the codes and laws of the army and of Fanelia."

The man might have been old, headstrong, and a firm holder to what he believed but he wasn't stupid. Well, for the most part he wasn't stupid.

When the man opened his mouth, all that escaped his lips was a slight yelp.

The tip of Van's sword rested gently but firmly on his throat.

"I won't stand for any disobedience." The man's Adam apple bobbed enough to brush against the razor edge of the sword; scratching his skin deep enough to have a faint trail of blood come to the surface. Van's hand didn't flinch or waver as his eyes studied the old soldier and then the faces of those who watched.

They understood. Through their fear was awe and past the disbelief was a renewed respect for their ruler.

In one smooth motion, Van sheathed his sword again and gave a steady warning stare to the old soldier before he continued his trip to the healer's tent.

"What were you saying, old goat?" one of the men asked, a slight grin kicking up the sides of his lips.

"Awe, shut up, brat."

* * *

"Oh, so you finally decided to rejoin me," Dilandau purred deeply as the Queen emerged from the tent hours after sunset. His arms crossed against the metal plate protecting his chest and head cocked to the right.

Hitomi gave a small smile and nodded, "Yes, thank you."

Jill had warned he would be acting and sounding different when in the Dilandau personae, but this was even different from before. She shrugged it off and wrote it up to him playing the character for Zaibach's sake.

"And Armand? Is he up and about?"

"Yes, you insufferable brat, I'm right here," the brunette poked his head out of the tent and glowered at the man. "And nursing a fist-induced headache."

Dilandau didn't give any snarky remark and Armand noted Jill's height was off by a few inches as well. No matter how good the actor, height was _not_ easily faked.

"Shall we?" Dilandau asked, pushing himself off the tree he had been resting on and flipping his hand in a general direction.

"To where?" Armand requested, his blue eyes narrowing a hair.

"To the island," The General Knight pointed straight up and a bit over. Both set of Fanelian eyes followed his finger up to the sky.

Hitomi's mouth dropped open amazement. The island that, quite literally, _floated_ above the camp was massive and she wondered briefly how she could have missed it when the originally made it to the camp.

Armand's eyes narrowed another half a hair. Something was _wrong_. He snapped his blue eyes back to Dilandau who was looking at Hitomi. The face plate hid his emotions so it was impossible for the knight to tell what Dilandau was feeling but something just wasn't _right_.

"Why are we going there?" Hitomi asked. "Why are we not going to see Van?"

Dilandau's fingers tightened on his arms, a slight, almost missed flinch of muscle, but the unarmored knight had caught it.

Suspicion pricked Armand's heart. No, that would make it seem like a small feeling, this was like a porcupine had walked into his heart and gotten scared, sending its quills flying all over the place.

"He is there," Dilandau lied smoothly. "It is also where you will be protected from all those-_unsavory_ characters."

There was a funny tone in his voice, something that didn't sound quite like Jill. Hitomi looked up at Armand, hoping to see a smirk on his face, but what saw her scared her even more. The brunette's face was a mask of indifference; he wasn't even rolling his eyes.

That meant trouble; Armand being serious meant they were in serious trouble.

"How do we get there?" Hitomi pondered aloud.

Behind the mask, a cold, cruel smile stretched the woman's face.

"By a guymelef. How else?" The General Knight moved toward the thick patch of woods and beaconed the two to follow.

The Queen's eyes shot to Armand, looking for some sort of reassurance, but the man remained unmoved on the outside. With slow steps, the two followed the man-woman into the dark.

It was only a few moments later Folken watched through suspicious eyes as Dilandau's guymelef rose from the trees and headed directly for the island. He had not heard any report from his neko warriors yet, and that disturbed him.

They were very sure to make certain never to slip on his bad side and tardiness was one way to do it. If any shred of news was even a minute late, it could cause the entire plan to go awry.

When the machine landed on the docks, he pulled his hood over his head, and made his way down. If it was his warriors or if it was Dilandau, he wasn't sure but he didn't need a totally unexpected surprise like Van popping his head out of the Zaibachian weapon.

There were soft voices coming from the hanger, as Folken passed through the doorway, his eyes instantly calculated the three people in front of him. They were still a good ways off and oblivious to his presence.

The first was Dilandau, whether it was Sir Jill or Serena parading around in boy's clothes again he wasn't sure, but the knight stood there regardless.

The second was a familiar face from Fanelia. Sir Armand DeCri. They had trained together under Armand's father, Balgus' harsh, but ever improving control. The boy had grown into a fine man, his shoulders rolled back and chin tipped up, his body language screaming discomfort and distrust.

The third was the most curious by all means. He was a short, fat man with thick curly hair, and an almost feminine look about him.

Curiouser and curiouser, why did the General Knight decide to bring these two up to the island? There was only one way to know what was going on in that dark hole of a mind.

"Dilandau," Folken addressed, making all three arrivals turn their eyes to the cloaked figure.

The knight strode to the hooded man, ripped off the helmet, and gave a huge, insane grin.

"May I introduce you to Hitomi Fanel, _Queen_ of Fanelia and her blindly trusting knight, Armand."

"Oh, gods," Hitomi breathed out. It was _Serena_! The princess was—her brain hurt. The baby kicked harshly at its mother's skin and made the royal pant.

"Personally, I think they stopped listening some time ago," Armand replied grimly, with a slight shrug. He was without a sword, Dilandau insisting he leave it below. He, like a moron, trusted the man…woman…_whatever_.

Folken's mind flickered and soon was a blaze with the new information. His brother's _wife_! How grand.

From the looks of her, she was extremely overweight or extremely pregnant. The way she panted and rubbed her stomach, he guessed the latter.

"Armand," came a velvety smooth voice. "It has been too long."

The knight's reactions were not reassuring in the least to Hitomi. His blue eyes became wide, as he took a step back from the person emerging from the shadows as his entire frame started to shake.

"Prince Folken?"

"Indeed," the man purred out, drawing closer to the couple as soldiers bleed out of the empty doorways and closed in on the misplaced Fanelians. "And welcome, sister."

* * *

Nariya held her head higher, tipped back as far as it would go as she sniffed the air for some trace of her sister.

They usually met up at midnight to discuss their progress or lack thereof. Both sisters were prompt and punctual to the point of being able to set a clock to their timing.

But Eriya didn't show.

Something had to have gone horribly wrong for her not to show up or leave some sort of message or _anything_.

It was that fact that had the neko prowling the camp, her mission of following the princess temporarily forgotten. Serena had disappeared a few hours earlier and it wasn't really her concern as to where unless she didn't come _back_.

Lord Folken wouldn't be very forgiving if she suddenly lost his main playmate.

Growling deep in her throat, she finally caught a strong scent of her sister, but one that was bathed in old blood.

Moving with the grace that only her species knew, she ran through the camp's shadows and toward the scent. The stronger it became, the more he stomach coiled in fear and anger.

If someone had _dared_ to hurt her sister, they would find out how sharp her claws really were as she slashed the life out of them. Fear grew like weeds in a rose garden as she neared a small creek adjacent to the camp.

It was far enough that it didn't mingle with the smaller creeks that the cooks and men used for fresh water but still close enough to dump debris, waste, and dead bodies. War was never pretty and many of the men didn't die on the battle field but later at the camp after many excruciating hours of being alive in pain.

This time, the neko was the one who felt the pain as she noticed a distinct scent hidden under a few poorly chopped down saplings.

Shoving the sad dead trees away, the female gingerly turned over the body beneath it.

Her throat clogged instantly.

The beautiful face of her sister stared back at her with a frozen look of shock. Her eyes were now a dull whitish color, evidence she had been dead for a few hours.

The golden haired neko curled her body around that of the dead and buried her face in the soft bosom of her sister.

Time was lost in an unmeasured lot before the female lifted her head and brushed the silver hair of her sister back before she gently set her back into the creek's bed. If someone was checking on the bodies, then they might notice the neko missing.

"I'll give you proper services later," Nariya swore soft. On the shore of the creek, she flexed her claws and gave a deep growl. She had her nose full of the scent was washed all over her sister's fur.

Metal, blood, and ash. There was only one person in the entire region who smelled like that.

"Dilandau."

Snarling, the neko let the hair on the back of her neck stand on end as she swiftly cut through the woods toward the soon to be dead man.

* * *

Eries eyes narrowed as they neared the place that had been mapped out by the Queen of Slena. Her directions were beautifully accurate. Whoever released her forgot to leave her somewhere that would not be of harm to the location of the camp, an oversight of the fool that she could now use for her advantage.

Her horse stomped restlessly on the ground. Iriya was her father's war horse but when he failed to take the reins, she climbed on top of the mare, and set her eyes to the goal.

The army was equally as impatient to see what the Princess could do that their King could not. The leaders had been skeptical of her abilities but when they crested the hill and saw the campfires and men dotting the land, they bowed their pride and rose up their loyalty to her.

"Should we go at dawn?" one of the generals questioned, "Or cut them down while they sleep?"

"They deserve a fair fight," She spoke brushing the horse gently with the hand brush. The blonde princess had insisted her tent be placed closest to the cliff so she could look down at the unsuspecting monsters.

"_Fair_?" the old man scoffed, "They didn't give _us_ a fair fight."

"That's what makes us different from them. Our _honor_ makes us different, makes us _better_." Blue eyes turned to the man. They held _no_ room for argument. Her word was that of the gods, it was final and to be etched into their brains before they dared act out on their own will.

"But we _all_ think that—" another man tried.

"No," Eries stated firmly, lowering her voice to make it as less feminine as possible. "We wait. They haven't moved out in this long, I say we attack when I give the word. Let them have a few more hours or even a day of fun before they are sent to their final rest."

The men bowed low before turning and walking away. Eries watched as their backs became smaller and placed the brush next to the horse's saddle. Picking up a cloth, she wiped her hands, and went to the rock lined drop off.

Bright, almost wild fires burned like small dawns below her.

Closer to the woods rested the guymelefs that had survived so far. Among them was the famous Escaflowne, positioned on one knee waiting to be brought back to life to kill yet again.

The heavy hum from above barely gave a moment's notice before the powerful winds knocked the woman off her feet and to the ground. She let out a string of very unladylike curses as she clambered her way to a sitting position.

A guymelef!

With the colors of Zaibach touched down by Escaflowne, but where had it come from?

Her horse whinnied and stomped harder to show her displeasure of being scared and not being able to run. Crawling to the edge, the woman squinted to see if she could make out the soldier climbing out of the machine.

No luck.

She carefully rose to her feet, dusted off only a few seconds before a handful of her men came to her aid. Slapping their hands away she coolly turned toward the nearest leader.

"Send spies out. Find out who mans that guymelef," she commanded, pointing to the machine. "If he saw us, we might be ambushed. Find him and if he is a liability, kill him."


	53. Honor's Price

**Chapter 53**

* * *

Serena gave a round of explicit words as she stumbled to the pond nearest to her private quarters. For whatever reason, because she certainly didn't remember them now, she had agreed to drink a round of hard liquor with her troops.

This was done with a turning of her head and lifting of her mask so no one could see the lack of masculine features on their 'greatest warrior'. She couldn't bloody walk a straight _line_ at this point much more wield a sword so, in her fit of morning after thinking, had decided that carrying a sword would be pointless.

That was only mistake number two.

Yawning behind the mask, she smiled when she saw the beautiful water reflecting the sunlight. She could _finally _get rid of the horrible stench of _men_. It had been a rather busy day yesterday.

First, the death of her replacement, Jill, and then the murder of Jill's murderer. Ah, that had been a good feeling to be able to slice into another living being again. She had, for months, been forced to the sidelines and made to wait while things played out. It was Folken's plan to make sure the princess remained _pure_ in the sight of Van in case they needed him to cooperate with them in a _special_ way.

But there had been brief and fiery moments of her rebellion. First Slena fell under her sword in Allen's disguise and then Fanelia. That troublesome city with the witch of the Queen had finally met its long overdue fate. Everything went perfectly, even if the high-and-mighty Folken didn't plan it out. There was only one fly in the soup when it came to that memory.

Serena hissed through clenched teeth as she remembered the scar on her cheek Van etched there during their battle. Although she, as a beautiful woman, could never forgive him that great insult, it was also the woman in her who purred with the thought of his power. It was only through extensive applications of cosmetics she had been able cover it up or wore a hood.

As Dilandau, she had no need to cover it up. The helmet did it all.

Grinning like a mad cat, she jerked off her belt and shoes and started to remove her helmet when something caught her attention.

More accurately, something caught _her_.

"Damn it to the pits!" she screamed, fighting against the net that had wrapped around her like a cheap city whore. "Who is responsible!" The Dilandau persona was coming out as her voice dipped in tone. After twisting her body around until her knees were beneath her and not resting on her shoulders, she searched the forest for the hunter.

"I never expected to catch the mighty slayer of Zaibach so easily," came mocking, but thoroughly amused, voice from beyond the pond.

Dilandau was not happy.

In fact, he was so _unhappy_ that he was practically foaming at the mouth with fury. He was such an _amateur _if he didn't see this coming! He left camp without his gloves, without his _sword, _and he got caught by a bunch of hierarchy hoodlums!

Allen emerged from the shadows and the princess narrowed her eyes. As Van stepped out from a different side, she saw red and snapped.

Fighting wildly and blindly against the twine prison, she threatened, quite colorfully, what she would do if they did not release her from the net _soon_.

"We are _allies_, Van!" Dilandau screamed.

"We _were_," the deep, impersonal tone made the woman in Dilandau nearly swoon with delight. That was one thing she loved about Van, his dark promise. He could be _such_ a demon lord, as his heritage was already curse, but he just needed to forget petty and unnecessary things.

Such as the Queen currently being _cared for_ by Folken.

"I'm going to inform the princess of this, I'm sure she'd lov-"

"She's dead."

Serena blinked and sat back. Her mind whirled. She wasn't dead, _she_ should know, after all Serena _was_ Serena.

"Is that so? How can you be sure?" the knight mocked, tipping his head to the side.

"We went to your tent, there was blood everywhere." Allen's smile twisted down. "Your hilt was the only one with dried blood on it last night. We checked. And no one has seen her since late afternoon yesterday."

It took a few seconds for things to click. The neko! Jill! The men who removed the bodies must have not cleaned Dilandau's tent as methodically as she had thought. It was late when she had staggered into her sleeping quarters and a thorough inspection of the tent was the furthest thing from her mind.

"Let me out of this net now and I promise you I will just _kill_ and not _torture_ you," Dilandau growled.

Van knew that voice and upon recognition, his garnet eyes shifted to a ruby glow. With the man no longer screaming, with his voice taunting with an edge of crazy, the King instantly _knew_.

This was the man he fought in Fanelia.

_This_ was his new target.

Dilandau had taken Serena away from him, had killed her before he had the honor of doing it, and now the knight would take the princess' place under the razor sharp edge of his blade. Before he could draw his sword, a steady hand was on his shoulder. Van's eyes flicked to the owner of the hand and even if Allen didn't look at him, the air around the blonde spoke volumes.

Now was not the time to be angry, now was the time to be a diplomat.

"We have a proposition for you."

"This should be a riot." The knight folded his arms and leaned back. Whatever they were wanting, she had no choice but agree. He _had_ to get out of this net one way or another. She would massacre them as soon as she was armed again.

"We want you to go before the Courts," Allen stated firmly, glancing over at Van who was doing his best to try and set the caught man on fire with his intense stare.

"You might not have noticed, but I don't particularly like the martyr role," Dilandau replied flippantly.

"Then let the deceased Princess be your martyr,_" _Allen explained calmly. "You are—or _were_ her most trusted soldier, you can tell them what has occurred was all her idea. They would believe you and perhaps pardon you for striking out against her before all of Gaea collapses in on itself because of this war."

"Oh, yes," Dilandau teased, "The many poor and helpless people who have _suffered_. All those who have _died_. The soldiers who lost their families-lost their _wives._"

Van's anger became its own entity at that point. It took Allen physically restraining the man to keep the King from tearing the red and black dressed man steam to stern.

"If I was a rabbit, I wouldn't be so _foolish_ with my words!" Van raged.

"Did I hit a nerve?" Dilandau asked innocently.

Allen gave a firm eye to Van and the ebony haired King jerked his head to the side. His anger was still its own breathing creature but he would have to keep it at bay for the moment.

"You _will_ help us," Allen stated firmly, placing his left hand on the hilt of his sword. "Or I _will_ let his highness do with you as he wishes." The blonde knight tilted his chin and gave a small smile. "I don't think it will consist of flowers and wine."

Serena looked over at Van, his red eyes brightened by his anger and the fury she could almost touch rolling off of him in delicious waves. He _would_ be someone to keep as long as Folken didn't do anything stupid. Back when they were engaged, Van had been too weak, too easy to manipulate. Now, now it was a different story. He was a _man_ who was fire branded and bathed in gory glory.

He was almost perfect.

"Very well," Dilandau made sure to keep his voice light yet deep in tone. "I am your _temporary_ toy."

From the safety of a high tree, the golden haired neko's ears caught every word without worry of being found out. She had followed the soldier to this place in hopes of gutting him when the net snapped.

Nariya scurried up a tree to see if there was a way to steal away their capture so she could bathe in the man's blood, but a more interesting development had occurred.

Lord Folken would be very pleased with this knowledge, perhaps it would ease the loss of her sister. As silent as the wind, she moved down the tree and through the woods where her guymelef was stashed in a cave, away from prying eyes.

* * *

Armand heaved another breath out, looked up with one blood shot eye through his bangs, and forced his busted lips to spread into a smirk.

"I'm getting bored here."

One of the guards growled and slammed their fist into the man's face again.

The knight spat out a mouthful of blood and spit before turning his taunting eyes back to his pack of attackers.

Both of Hitomi's hands were tied behind her back as she was forced to watch her friend take a hard thrashing from a bunch of no bodies. Her tears flowed freely as her baby flipped and kicked restlessly.

She had to go to the bathroom but wasn't _dare_ going to ask.

Folken! How is it possible that _he_ was related to _Van_?

The Fanelian man confessed Armand was not wrong in assuming it was him and had even boasted of his cut ties with the proud country. The blue-haired demon had spoken with her privately and requested basic information about her family and about her growing baby.

She hadn't said a word.

Her green eyes had remained straight forward and her lips were pressed tightly together.

For this insolence, Armand was handed over to Folken's restless men.

It was only a few moments in and the handsome knight was being held up by his elbows by two men as the others kicked, slammed kneed, and punched his body.

It was because of her. Again.

She clamped her eyes shut and turned her face away. Everyone got hurt because of _her_!

"Oh no, your majesty," Folken pressed his fingers under her chin and forced her to face the brutal scene. "You must be aware of the things you do. Your choice chose _his_ fate."

"That's not fair," she managed to get out in a strong voice, though a bit husked from her crying.

"Life is never fair." He held up his mechanical arm. "I should know. Would you wish to take his place, Hitomi?"

Armand's blue eyes met her green ones for just a second before a man brought his fist into the brunette's stomach. In that brief amount of time, a message had been passed.

_Loyalty_.

He wasn't doing this because _she_ was female, expecting, or whatever sexist notion that could be brought up. Armand was doing this because it was his _duty_ to _serve_ those of the Fanelia Royal house.

There would be no forgiving her if Hitomi took that away and was made to suffer in his place.

She had to protect the future that grew bigger every day in her womb as Armand had to protect the present with his rapidly broken and bruising body.

"No," Hitomi stated solidly, "But I won't tell you what you want _either_."

Folken smiled, actually _smiled_ at that. "As you wish, your majesty."

They did not let up on the knight until he has passed out in their grasp.

* * *

Nariya growled her displeasure as she leapt from her guymelef to the hanger floor. Dilandau's scent was heavy in the hanger and it made her thirst for her revenge ten times over again.

Tilting her nose, she took a deep whiff. Lord Folken was in the area. Swiftly the neko sprinted up the steps and continued down the hall until the scent of blood assaulted her nose.

There was a man being dragged, unconscious, from one room down a stairwell and most likely to the brig. It wasn't her concern so she pushed forward, careful not to tread in the blood drooled out of the man's mouth.

"Lord Folken?" the woman questioned, before she glanced in the room.

Her lord and master stood as silent and passive as ever, while there was a weeping mess of human flesh. Again, it wasn't her concern.

"Yes, Nariya?" The man stepped forward and without saying another word exited the room. He secured the door before giving the neko his full attention.

"I have news."

"Indeed, do not keep me in suspense." Her face bunched in confusion. Was he making a _joke_? "Did you complete your task?"

"No," she admitted, casting her eyes downward for a second before meeting his bravely. "But I bring you news. Sir Dilandau has been captured by the Dragon and the Prince of Zaibach."

A slim blue eyebrow rose as an indication for her to continue.

"I found my sister murdered," she growled out the last word but no emotions flickered in her Lord's eyes. "The scent was heavy of Dilandau's, when I went to hunt him. I found him in the morning, alone, but he was caught by a _net_ before I could attack."

"I see." The man glanced at the door behind him.

"They said Princess Serena was slain by Dilandau's hand." The other blue eyebrow joined its twin on the incline. "Dilandau has agreed to go before the Courts to testify that everything was the Princess' idea."

"That would present a problem." Folken, again, glanced back at the door to the room he had just left. "Perhaps a new bargain can be struck."

Nariya tilted her head to the side, curious about what it was her Lord had planned or was planning in his mind.

"Do you wish for me to finish Eriya's task?" She was going to kill Dilandau regardless but it might be nice to have her Lord's permission.

"No, not yet." He gave her a solid stare. "I have another task for you."

Ears perked with curiosity as they were filled with a new, less bloody assignment.

* * *

"We have him," Allen started, trying to break Van out of whatever cell of grief he locked himself in recently. "Now what? We can't take him to the Courts without some sort of body to prove the princess is dead."

"And they might think I killed her," Van spat, disgusted that even in death, the Princess tormented him. Allen nodded mutely.

He wasn't pleased his little sister was dead, but was hopeful that with her death, peace would be restored to her soul and to the torn lands.

"We must find some way to convince them that _you_ did not do it."

"But that I did?" Dilandau said mockingly. "Yes, that will make things _much_ easier." His voice was light and teasing, "They won't take the word of one murder over another."

Van gave a withering glare and although he couldn't see it, he was sure there was a madman's grin behind the face plate of the helmet.

"He has a point," Allen disclosed softly. "I will _not_ frame anyone else."

"Oh, but framing me is fine?" Dilandau questioned, annoyed.

"Hold your tongue," Van snapped, his right hand reaching around to his left side, gripping the hilt of his sword. "Or would you rather it cut out?"

"Would make it terribly difficult to testify, now wouldn't it?" The man leaned his head forward, "I don't think it would bode well for making them believe that you aren't a blood thirsty abomination."

The thin string that was holding up Van's manners was loped off with the arrogant detainee's words.

The blonde knight blocked the steady path Van was making the bound knight.

"This won't _help._"

Van's ruby eyes flickered from the man's face to that of the armored man behind him. Growling, the King slammed his sword back into place and stormed out of the tent.

Allen watched the younger man leave and sighed. With frozen eyes, he looked down at the General Knight and with a deadly low tone he spoke, "I will not always _stop_ him. You should tread lightly. Remember that."

"And I will not always be tied down," the Zaibachian warned, "When I am released, his blood will fill my cup. _You_ remember _that_."

* * *

Van splashed the icy water on his features. He shouldn't have let the knight get to him as easily as he did. The total lack of restraint was giving power to the _enemy_. Allen had made it quite clear that they needed Dilandau alive.

For now.

Accidents always happened.

Shaking his head, the loose beads of water dropped off his wild hair, he then ran one calloused hand over his face, it was then the man felt the shift in air around him. If not for the long months spent walking an increasingly thin string of safety of a war, he probably wouldn't have been so in tune with the things around him.

It was a fighter; Van just _felt_ the danger seeping off this person, whoever it was. Standing slowly, as not to let the person be too suspicious of his knowledge, the King also briefly wondered who would dare attack him within earshot of his camp and in broad, piercing daylight.

"I have a message."

To the left, just a few feet beyond the pond's edge was where the voice drifted from. It had a funny purr, almost a snake's tempting hiss to the words that only females could accomplish.

"I'm listening," Van dropped both hands to his sides and clenched them into fists. He rested his eyes on the spot he knew the voice was coming from.

"_Your_ princess is _not_ dead," the female informed. "If you wish to have her, you may."

"Why should I believe you?" Van was sick of these random people poking out of random places and telling him what to do.

"Because I have seen her, because your _Allen_ will believe you. Tell him that _Stratego_ holds the female on Vione. Use Escaflowne to come to him, with Dilandau, at sunset tonight or she will die."

There was a slight crack of a branch and then silence. The King growled several unpleasant words under his breath.

Someone must have been _spying_.

It was a good thing he didn't need to relieve himself when any of these 'mystery voices' came prowling about.

Studying the area around the pond, Van huffed as he turned on his heel and marched back to the camp. It would seem he had a few more things to discuss with Allen.

* * *

It was hours later when a breathless male voice screamed out for the princess, causing the princess to turn away from the map and the slowly thought out strategy about tomorrow's morning raid.

"Now just why are you, soldier, running around like some ungrateful mutt!" a general shouted.

The man bowed and stood up quickly. "I have news! The information the princess requested!"

"Let him pass," Eries commanded, straightening to her full height. She still seemed like a shrub in an oak forest with all the men around her. "Your news?"

The man huffed, dropped to one knee, and after bowing his head, looked up at the princess. "They—intend to travel tonight," the soldier confessed. "Three of them."

"Which three?" Eries asked impatiently.

"The King of Fanelia, the General Knight of Zaibach, and Sir Allen of Asturia." Her blood nearly sang with relief and victory.

She kept her face expressionless as she studied the man.

"When do they plan on leaving? And where are they going?"

"To the floating island," the solider pointed straight up, and unconsciously everyone within ear shot followed the man's finger. The under belly of the fortress, they had hoped, was not equipped with any type of spy scopes or anything that would give away their location. "They leave tonight, after sunset."

Eries glanced back down at her soldier. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes. The guymelef that came through last night is that of Sir Dilandau."

Silence filled the air, the pure weight of opportunity swamped over them. It was a fragile hope that none felt brave enough to speak about.

"The alpha males of the dog pack will be gone," A general leered finally.

"This will be easy pickin's," another man followed up. Eries dismissed the solider after thanking him for his information and work.

* * *

Ana wiped her eyes as she stumbled along the abandoned road. There was very little she wouldn't do or hadn't done to get out of Asturia. The guards had been willing to let her go after the favors they requested from her.

It was nothing degrading or disgusting, surprisingly enough, but it made her fingers burn and her eyes sore. The rumor of Asturia's impending doom and the knowledge that Slena was Fanelia's alley made the soldiers leery of doing perverted things to and with her. The soldiers were too fearful that if Fanelia _did_ win that they would be cut down by the breathing legend that Van was turning into. Ana had been thankful for such fear.

True to their word, the soldiers she bargained with set her in the same path taken by the Astuiran army. It wasn't a hard path to follow actually since it was trampled with guymelef and soldiers footsteps.

Angry eyes scanned the path for leftover food or berry bushes (as long as it wasn't those mushrooms). Her mind played and replayed everything her heart, that used to be so pure but was injected with hate and maliciousness, was telling her to do. Between her sisters and herself, there had always been distinctions.

Leiko was the sexy, smooth one that knew how to turn men into piles of jelly.

Hitomi was the strong, independent one that never feared speaking her mind.

Ana had been the motherly one. She had worked all her youth as an apprentice for the both the wet nurses and the local midwife to learn to be the best mother she could be when she was blessed enough to have a child.

Her heart twisted and screwed down tightly into her spine.

Ana hadn't been able to see her young daughter in _months_ because of this _silly_ war.

Every country thought their way was the best!

Shaking her red-haired head, Ana refocused on what her mind came up with.

_Eries_ was the reason she was taken from her baby. _Eries _was the one who dragged her soldiers into a blood bath. There was no _way_ on _Gaea_ that Asturian forces would be able to take over Fanleia or Zaibach.

They were going to fail and then Eries would be Ana's.

The princess had taken great pleasures in tormenting the Queen and it was time for revenge.

Gauging the distance and time, she nodded her head in triumph. It would be very early morning before she got to Van's camp. All Ana would have to do is wait for the attack, wait and then find Eries.

Once she found the woman, Ana would repay the princess for all her awful words and cruel intentions.

* * *

"I don't like this," Van repeated as he changed Escaflowne into its dragon form and then aided Allen in bringing Dilandau up.

"Then why are we doing this?" Allen repeated the same question since Van was repeating the statement. No matter how many times the knight tried to get it through that thick black haired head of the King, Van still stated his displeasure at doing the enemies bidding.

Van's face screwed up into a grimace and Dilandau chuckled low in his throat. With ease that only excessive use and practice brought about, Escaflowne was soon airborne and heading toward the landing docks on the floating island.

Though it did take a candle mark to arrive at the island, it seemed to take forever in the shortest form of forever. Both men, who were not tied up, braced themselves for a fight as muscles tensed and eyes narrowed.

The right most door opened, inviting the trio inside. Van tried to hide his nervous anticipation.

"Can't you hear the blood rush into your ears?" Dilandau mocked. "Getting afraid?"

"Silence," Van barked out harshly.

It took a bit but he was finally able to land, though not very smoothly as all three men were jostled about and Van earned two stares of displeasure. Instead of a whole league of soldiers, there were only two who waited patiently for the men to climb off of the mechanical dragon.

"This way," one stated solemnly as he turned on his heel and marched down the long throat of the hanger.

Allen and Van exchanged uneasy looks but each grabbed an arm of Dilandau's and hauled him along. The General Knight muttered under his breath the entire walk. Allen kept 'accidentally' kicking the side of the man's leg whenever the chance presented itself and Van's grip tightened to an almost painful pressure.

When the two leading soldiers finally stopped it was in front of a set dark wooden double doors. With a nod to each other, the two men grabbed a door ring and pulled open the doors, waving the visitors to continue in.

"This is it," Allen whispered under his breath.

"For you two at least," Dilandau boasted as he was being towed through the doors.

It wasn't as ominous as Van's imagination led him to believe. Instead of it being some sort of devil's den, it was a well lit round room that had several chairs around an expensive looking black marble table. On one wall of the large room, there was a row of doors.

"I'm glad you accepted my invitation," came a smooth, low voice and Van stopped himself from grabbing the hilt of his sword. It was only a handful of words but something about that voice screamed danger to his blood.

"You left us little choice; you have something that we want," Allen spoke up, his voice even as he rolled his shoulders back. "Where is she-_Stratego_?"

A cloaked figure laughed softly, appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and stepped close to the table before sitting down. "Please, sit down and let us discuss this civilly."

Yanking on Dilandau's arm, Allen pulled a chair out for the knight, forced him down into it before sitting down himself to the left of the knight. Van sat to the right of the murderous man.

"What do you want for the princess?" Van demanded.

"I want two things," the man tilted his head to the left as if thinking over his requests. "First, I want you to hand over Dilandau and secondly I require you to be a permanent ally of mine."

Van couldn't believe a lot of things.

One of those things was how Allen didn't manage to chop off his hair during a sword fight.

Another was the way Armand could throw himself down like a child and pitch a fit one moment and then the next was straight laced and barking orders at the maids.

What this guy said climbed all the way to the top of the things he couldn't believe. This man was one orange short of a picnic basket if he thought Van was ever going to be anyone's ally just _because_ they said so.

His temper snapped like a fresh green bean as his dark eyes started to burn with a ruby red.

"No," the King answered, his teeth grinding into each other. If looks were able to kill, Van would have another body to add to his numbers. "There is _nothing_ you can do to make me sacrifice my honor anymore."

Allen blinked in surprise, "Why do you want King Van?"

Stratego turned to face the blonde.

"That is none of your concern, Prince Allen." He then turned back to Van, and though his face was cloaked by the hood and shadows it created, he felt as if he was sitting barefaced with his brother.

The intensity of Van's stare was almost intimidating to anyone who didn't have memories of a crying child in the middle of the night after wetting his bed.

"_You_, perhaps, having nothing that is worth your honor in your possession but I do," his diplomatically smooth and even voice didn't help soothe Van's lit nerves.

"I would _never_ side with you!" Van shouted as he shot out of his seat and slammed his fists on the hard marble.

"Perhaps you should look behind that door before you making a brash choice," the cloak figured suggested, raising a hand to elegantly gesture toward one of the thick wooden doors within the large room.

Van kept his eyes in a sharp glare, reached to the side, and pulled out his blade

"Why would whatever is behind that door ever effect me?"

"I will allow you the privacy required. I do not wish to incarcerate you, but to have your assistance," the deep, smooth voice clarified but it only left Van more confused. "Go, look. You may do what you will to what is behind that door."

Van gave a soft grunt and instructions for Allen to watch his back if anything happened. The warrior King moved cautiously toward the door. Raising his sword, he sliced through the chains wrapped around the door handle, not having any patience to speak of to wait for a key.

The last time he was made to open a prison door, he found Coron. This was either a trap or someone else was going to be lurking in this hole of a room. If it was Serena, there would be no bargaining, no hesitation. The moment he saw her blonde head, he would disconnect it from her shoulders.

Holding fast to his anger and pain, the man pushed the door open, sword secure in hand, and walked in to the dimly lit room. The small, barred window was the only light provided and acted like a small spotlight on the only other person in the room with him.

Dark eyes adjusted quickly as he covered nearly every inch under his gaze, and there, in the corner, was a lump of something. He stepped down the three stairs, reached behind him with his free hand and slammed the door shut.

The noise jolted the lump into movement as they shot straight up, head swiveling around, trying to grasp where the sound came from. Light colored hair caught Van's attention first, his mind automatically jumped to conclusions that it was Serena and a part of him chuckled. Why not play with her? Why not toy with her and jerk her around like a fish at the end of a fishing rod?

"W-who's there?" came an apprehensive, weak voice. The figure awkwardly stood up to her feet, wobbling a bit before using one wall as a brace.

Van's blood chilled instantly. He knew that voice but it was impossible, wasn't it?

The person cleared their voice making it stronger, "Hello?"

Dear gods, how could it be? Van's vision began to blur. He tried to get his voice to work, tried to move and just remember to breath. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, he mustered up enough control to say one simple word.

"Hitomi?"

"Who is-?"

Van forgot everything.

All the plans, hate, and pain he had gone through broke apart and drained out of his heart.

She was alive. The disbelief in her eyes, the strange clothes she wore, the enlarged waistline and the way she breathed, nothing went unnoticed, and everything lead to the same conclusion: she was alive.

For the first time in months, Van felt himself breath again.

Not the warrior, not the king, but the man breathed.

"Hitomi."

"Van," she answered weakly, her voice heavy from fear.

His sword hit the ground, the sound not even heard as the pair fell into each other's arms.

"You're alive," he whispered repeatedly, holding her as closely as her new body would allow.

She broke down and cried, clinging to him for dear life. _His_ life, he was alive. He was warm, real, and there with her, after so long, he was with her again!

"You're okay!" she sobbed back at him, her smile contradicting the flowing tears.

"You're—pregnant." He stood dumbfounded, staring at her. Actually, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her swollen stomach. Her smile, gods how he had missed that, grew as she put her hands on her stomach.

"Our baby," Hitomi said lightly, her smile softening as Van's eyes grew in understanding. She reached out and secured one of his hands and held it to her stomach. The baby kicked against the foreign hand on its mother and the King nearly lost his ability to stand.

"Ours?" Van repeated weakly.

"Yes."

Hitomi squeaked in surprise but soon let her eyes flutter shut when Van had moved quicker than she ever remembered to press his lips against hers. His lips were slightly chapped as they moved across her softer ones, his fingers burying themselves in her thick dirty-blonde hair.

Possession and hunger flared through Van when Hitomi gripped the fabric directly above his shoulders. There was an answer of a desperate need of reassurance in her body and the radiant glow of pure relief as they melded their mouths together.

It was long moments before the King pulled away from his Queen, his eyes burned, but refused to show a single tear.

Then reality crashed down on him like a pane of glass from the highest floor of a tower. The happiness was short lived as Van realized what Stratego had meant.

Hitomi or his honor.

As he held his wife close, unwilling to let her go for fear she would be a dream and disappear, Van tried to force himself to set up a new plan, but everything was fuzzy with happiness.

Absently, he stroked her hair as she embraced him tightly.

_Damn it_, Van cursed in his mind. For once in his life, he was at a complete loss.


	54. Meet Me at Dawn

**Chapter 54**

* * *

Van pulled Hitomi from him, his eyes soaking in her beautiful, living sight.

He never thought of himself capable of feeling so much for one person's life to be returned.

He had mourned his brother, tried to take Folken's place, and failed miserably.

Van finally had a small grasp about his mother and how she had so tragically withered at the foot of his father's grave.

"Van…" Hitomi whispered, her heart circling and swirling so many emotions she felt like she was plummeting and soaring at the same time.

Van was here, with her, alive and well and looking more wildly handsome than she could have ever dreamed. True, he didn't smell the best, but that could be changed. He was _here_.

"Oh, Van," she repeated his name in her heart like a mantra.

Time did an amazing effect of speeding up and slowing down all at once. It felt like it was forever but anxiety started to creep in when he slowly began to realize Stratego was waiting like an evil demon outside the door.

How did Hitomi get here? How long had she been confined like—like a _commoner_?

When Van emerged from the cell, he had Hitomi with him. Their hands were linked as he led her from the darkness of the cell into the illuminated room where the others waited.

The indecision looming over his head was almost like a phantom over with a mocking grin and a cruel chuckle. Van's only protection was his carefully placed mask of indifference.

Allen's face, on the other hand, showed all his emotions clearly. Shock, surprise, disbelief, and relief all rushed in together and melted into a semi-warmth at seeing the Fanelian Queen alive and, well, round.

"Queen Hitomi?" he questioned, not even having enough control to rise from his chair as Van walked her closer to where the others waited.

Hitomi's eyes flickered to Allen and then to the hooded man. Her heart clenched tightly. Folken was still hiding which meant Van didn't know who he really was. In her euphoric state of being with her husband, she had forgotten to try and tell him _anything._ The blonde hadn't mentioned anything about what she had been through, what they were currently up against, or anything truly useful. For this reason she had to battle back the urge to slap herself for not doing being more helpful.

In those few moments alone with Van, she had forgotten to be a Queen and instead was just a woman and wife happy to be with her husband.

"What were your terms again?" Van questioned in a voice deep and roughed with emotion. His hand squeezed hers reassuringly.

Hitomi's green eyes flickered to their interlocked hands and the already clenched heart constricted violently.

"Your loyalty to _me_ and Dilandau turned over to me," the hooded man spoke fluidly and instantly.

Hitomi's eyes opened wider than normal. Van wasn't _possibly_ considering…?

She felt a nervous smile tug on her lips as she tugged on Van's hand. He turned half an inch toward her, his eyes never leaving the mysterious cloaked man. Even the slight gesture was enough to let her know he was listening.

In the lowest voice she could muster, Hitomi whispered, "Armand is also here. They beat him up pretty badly."

Van's shoulders barely moved to those who weren't a swordsmen or his wife but to those who _were_, it was much more than a slight twitch. He was preparing for a fight and slipping into a defensive position as subtly as possible.

"Where is Sir DeCri?"

Folken chuckled under his breath.

"Would you like to see him as well?" the man asked and was only answered with a tilt of Van's head which in some strange male way must have been a nod. "Very well, bring the knight."

While they waited for a guard to fetch the knight, the men began to talk about the options presented. Van was not saying he was or was not going to take the offer and Folken wasn't letting the issue remain silent. Allen stayed quiet, observing the conversation, collecting, and analyzing both ally and enemy.

Dilandau was also silent, not moving as if he wished his presence to be forgotten.

Hitomi felt her hands start to shake, her heartbeat dissolved with the whispered words from the group as her mind started to swim. Folken had been clear about a few things in the brief time she had been with him.

The thing that stood out the clearest was the _she_ held the future of Fanelia and Van in her hands. Even though Hitomi had, in vain, admitted Van was rather impartial to her, the blue haired demon only smiled.

"_I know my brother," _the man had acknowledged simply. _"He lost his will when he thought he lost you. Dilandau has vouched to me that he was bloodlust personified when Fanelia was destroyed." _

"_I don't see what that has to do with _me_," _Hitomi argued, Armand's words haunting her like a hangover after the start of the New Year. The knight had reminded her Van probably only did a _duty_ and not an act of love whenever he had to be near her in any type of way. _"Any king would want revenge for his kingdom's destruction."_

Folken gave a half-smile.

"_No, not when he saw the kingdom, when he saw the palace destroyed. His men will even state he broke then."_ Folken, clearly seeing Hitomi was objecting what he was stating pushed further. _"When he thought you died, he gave up his morals...his honor…everything."_

The words melted into her heartbeat and now echoed loudly in her ears.

If that conversation wasn't enough, the horrible vision painted across her heart -the possible dark reality that was waiting for them all—reared its unwanted head in her mind's eye. She wasn't able to stop it before, everything from Chid's death to the destruction of Fanelia—she could do nothing. Back then, she didn't believe in her visions, in her dreams, but they were serving as a heralding raven of the Crack of Doom.

She could ignore it and pretend it was all just coincidence, or she could embrace it and try to save what was left of Fanelia.

To be a woman or a Queen was what her questions were stripped down to being.

Hitomi felt her heart start to shred apart from the inside out.

In the vision, two women who were vaguely familiar were going to destroy Van.

A man with black wings was going to strike Van down.

Then the baby, possibly _their_ baby, would be taken by the murderer.

Three simple facts gleaned off her vision.

A vision she did _not_ want to see become a reality in any way or form.

It wasn't until Van's hand slipped from her own that the Queen was brought back to the current state.

"See to him," Van instructed her gently. Hitomi blinked, confused, until she heard the light groan.

Armand had been dragged into the room during her thinking time. With one curt nod, she went to Armand's side. He was badly bruised, his skin broken and weeping blood in several places, but nothing was jutting out which was a good sign. They would just have to hide all mirrors from the knight until he was healed. If the vain man saw his face in this state, there was no doubt he'd break down crying like a little girl.

"I better get a raise in the _very_ near future," Armand hissed as Hitomi inspected his face for any unseen breaks.

"Why should you get a raise? It's about time you did your job," Hitomi reminded him, trying to keep her voice in a lighter key.

Blue eyes narrowed into icy fires.

"I have given you what you want," Stratego paused, glancing toward the now fussing blonde and brunette as if to indicate what he meant. "Do we have a deal?" he questioned; now ignoring the two.

Van's cinnamon colored eyes remained on the blackness were the Folken's face was hidden.

As a swordsman, he had sized up the guards he had seen and as a king, he had to evaluate every twist and possible turn out of this devil's deal. Was there a way to get Hitomi and Armand along with the rest of the original crew out of harm's way _and_ take down Zaibach?

If they lost Dilandau, they were robbed of the one person to whom everyone wanted to blame.

When silent moment slipped by, Folken's impatience grew. He raised his metallic arm and gave a small hand gesture. Guards bled from the wall and surrounded the Queen and Knight quickly.

Van's teeth clamped together and his anger flared like the phoenix in his eyes. His right hand was on the hilt of his sword and ready to pull it out if they drew any closer to _his_ people.

"As you see, my lord," there was a song of sarcasm being sung within his honorific. "Fate is on _my_ side. You may either have your revenge on Dilandau, or you may have your wife and most loyal knight back."

"King Van…" Allen prodded, knowing Stratego seemed to have planned an almost perfect pact.

It was becoming _really _very hard for Van to think clearly through the red haze that was edging into his vision. He'd love to blame the call for the want of putting a sword through this guy's heart a part of his Atlantian curse, but there was no doubt no one would believe it.

Hitomi felt her heartbeat in her throat as the guards edged closer, leering grins upon their faces. Men who looked at women in that way needed to be slapped soundly and repeatedly across the face. Men who looked at _pregnant_ women in the same lustful way needed to be dragged out to a field, striped of their clothes, and then beat to death with bars of hog soap by little old ladies.

Her nasty plots for the even nastier looks quickly dried up as the vision laughed at her and taunted her in the shadows of her mind.

_Van with a child and the black winged man standing behind him it was horror covered in blood and death snuggled together._

Hitomi couldn't break free from the meaning, knowing that in the past her visions burned brightly as the face of truth.

If this came to pass, Van would die.

Fanelia would be left in ruins.

The bad guy would win.

She couldn't do much, but she could do what she had to in order to prevent that from happening.

It was a devil's slither of a tongue that she hoped with which to save him.

"I lied," came a harsh whisper from the floor. It took her a few blinks before she realized _she_ was the one who said it. A chunk of her heart was cut off and shoved in her throat as she found it hard to talk with the newly formed lump.

Almost all the eyes went over to the small blonde who had spoken the random words.

"What?" Van questioned.

"I lied," she repeated, a new fiery fury of sadness cutting through her green eyes.

* * *

Eries eyes told of all the bitterness she felt.

Both her older and younger sister wished to study medicine in order to help people _live_. It was a truly noble endeavor and one she was proud of but never felt a desire to seek. Instead, here she waited on the back of an impatient war horse as her men prepared for battle.

She was here to destroy what lay before her as a dark princess of death. Her sisters' disapproval about the needless waste of life filled her heart and pricked her conscience.

War wasn't pretty.

War wasn't fun.

War was ugly and splattered with death.

The princess swallowed a swell of emotion that had bloomed in her throat.

The anticipation of the attack was coiled tight in everyone's stomach. They had decided to attack both unsuspecting camps at the same time to prevent them from joining up and defeating the depleted Asturian forces. This was going to be their all or nothing. Asturia would either emerge from this victorious or submerge into history as another pile of corpses under the hell bent rule of Zaibach and Fanelia.

This was to be the end of everything and the start of a new era. It wasn't Asturia's idea to start an unholy war, but it was their gift from the gods to end it. If those they encountered weren't with them, they were dead.

Simple matters required simple answers.

Eries told herself this so she could rest at night.

"Your majesty?" General Loce questioned, his voice shaking her out of her reverie.

"Prepare to move," she ordered in a firm voice.

Somewhere in the back of her heart, she whispered a prayer that her dead sisters would eventually forgive her.

* * *

"I lied to you."

Hitomi had to do this! She just _had_ to! She never thought she would come to love Van, but she did and to do that meant to do what was best for them—for _him_. Even though the words never passed his lips, the way he was thinking and acting was enough to make her pretend that, for one brief moment in time, he loved her.

Because of that love, Van was no longer thinking like a King, the protector of the realm, but like a _husband_ and a soon-to-be _father_. If those two facts were the only things holding him back from acting out in what was best for the kingdom, she'd rip that away from him.

Tears licked the bottom of her eyes with fire. Van had opened up to her, trusted her, and nothing he could ever say would make her believe otherwise. She loved him, and always would, but for now—for now, she was going to have to break his heart.

"I _lied_," she screamed, tears poured down her cheeks. "I _lied_! Do you really think that _one night_ would be enough?" Hitomi continued. "Armand knew I was pregnant first and pushed you to think you were the father because he _is_ the father! We are _lovers_!" Her throat burned with the lies.

She was breaking his heart. Even though his outward appearance didn't change, she could see the bricks being laid on a new wall in his eyes.

He would hate her.

She couldn't bring herself to look at him anymore. Closing her eyes, she let them singe with wetness as she told herself over and over it was for the best. If Van hated her, he wouldn't try to defend her or their child. If he thought she was unfaithful, he wouldn't trust her. He would think like a _king _and not a _man_.

"She's _lying_ now!" Armand protested, having finally gotten over his shock induced spell of silence brought about by her untruths. Did that little idiot _know_ what she was saying? If Van believed even a word of her tale, the knight would be stripped of his title and then fitted for the hangman's noose. It was treason to be a participant in adultery of royalty.

"Y-you don't have to consider me!" Hitomi pleaded, her voice shrinking in strength. "Armand is trying to protect himself even _now_."

Van's entire world, the one that had only lately been restored to a fraction of its former self, quickly imploded, and was sucked down into the darkest cave in the dreariest pit of existence.

The entire room was encased in silence for several heartbeats. The cinnamon colored eyes of the King never left the bowed blonde head of the Queen.

He was waiting for—for _something_ to happen.

If someone ran a sword through his heart, he doubted very seriously he would even notice. The pain would be nothing to the void. Total and utter apathetic moments slipped by. His mind was a complete blank to the words but his heart, his heart was doing funny things.

In stunned or amused silence the room would have stayed if not for the devil's spawn who broke it.

There was a ripple of enjoyment followed by a louder, harsher sound of amusement.

All eyes, except Van's, swung around to stare at the bemused black and red clad knight as he threw back his head and laughed harder, gasping for breath.

Allen clenched his teeth as he reached for the jocular male and wrapped his hand around his throat, hoisting him off his feet.

"This is not to be laughed at."

The laughter died to spurts of dark chuckles.

"Of course it is," the knight replied, the grip on his throat tightening uncomfortably.

"Put him down, Prince Allen," Folken instructed, raising his hand to call forth the guards who had retrieved Armand. "Or I shall not remain pleasant."

Allen cursed under his breath and released his victim. With a clang and a grunt, the Zaibach knight landed in an ungraceful heap on the floor.

By this time, Hitomi had dared to look up, ignoring the way Armand was being rather vocal to her about lying.

He still had his doubts. Van was waiting for her to say she either lied or to pony up the proof. Biting the inside of her cheek, Hitomi felt her conscience and guilt rise to new and frightening levels. Another idea struck her and before she could confirm with the rest of her functioning brain, she acted.

Placing a hand on either side of Armand's face, Hitomi sent one more plead of forgiveness before she pressed her lips against her knight's.

Van's exterior shattered.

There was the evidence his heart had been vainly seeking. Armand's blue eyes were snapped open wide, Hitomi's green eyes, how many times had he dreamed of those eyes?, were sealed shut and their lips were comfortably together.

Familiar.

Comfortable.

Like lovers.

It was in that instant that Van truly felt himself die.

"Oh, gods," Allen breathed out under his breath.

When the kiss was broken, the blonde released the brunette's face. The shock still evident as he instantly hit the floor with the back of his short-haired head.

"I told you, I don't love you," Hitomi stated flatly, her bangs casting a shadow over her eyes in an effort to hide her tears. "Armand is-," she couldn't even finish the thought or feeling.

"Splendid," Dilandau started; only to receive a rather nasty look from Allen.

"Stay quiet," Van warned, his hand screamed in pain at the death grip he held on the hilt of his sword.

"Why should I?" the knight questioned cockily the slightly high pitched male-sounding voice smoothing into a distinctive female tone.

Something in Van's mind strained to correlate the two sounds.

"I told you before," the General Knight purred like a fattened cat.

The way his already broken heart found shards of glass to grind into itself was testimony that he knew the person behind the mask.

"How can anyone love an _abomination_?"

Serena.

"_Wouldn't matter?" That pretty face that he had kissed, been kissed by, and mesmerized for five months and some odd weeks had never held so much disgust and hate as it did right then. "You're-a MONSTER… how can anyone love an abomination?"_

Serena.

The knight didn't need to remove the helmet to let Van know who was behind it.

With a jerky motion of his neck, he cast his eyes to where Dilandau was still chuckling at his—perhaps, _her_, own joke. The weight of the world crashed down on his shoulders, shattered, and punctured what was left of his fighting spirit. His shoulders lost their tension for a fraction of a second, but it was like flashing a paper cut to a hungry vulture.

Folken understood what Van's body language was saying and smiled.

"I told you stay quiet!" Allen barked.

Van remained silent; his eyes were stone cold walls of indifference. He wasn't letting anything in or out.

She had done it to him and Hitomi started to die inside. Through her banshee's scream of pain in her heart, her logical mind quietly whispered five words.

It was for the best.

* * *

The Generals looked to the sky, the twilight blackening one direction as a dusty blue started to settle over where the stars had sparkled.

Dawn had come.

Men, heavily and lightly armored, some in full suits while others wore their wife's kitchen pots on their heads, waited like panthers in the dark to strike at their enemy.

War was always simple to understand.

There were two people who were going to fight and there was only going to be one person who went home.

"Your majesty?" The winds seemed to pick up the unasked question and swirl around Eries blonde head. Her hair whipped like a pit of angered snakes, almost its own living thing as she reached to her left hip and wrapped her gloved hand around the pearl and gold hilt of her sword. With one hoist, she slid the smooth, sharp metal from its scabbard. As easily as the waters carried a wave in the full moon light, she raised her arm, sword straight above her and with equally lethal beauty and efficiency, she brought the blade down in a lightening flash.

The battles cries from the fire pits of death erupted as all hell met with the rising of the sun.


	55. Call My Name

**Chapter 55**

* * *

"I thought you were _dead_ princess," Van's voice was deeper than anyone had ever heard it. All amusement, light, and life were siphoned out of it. He was the living embodiment of anger and steel.

"Death is in the hand of he who holds the sword," came a catty reply that was tailed by a soft chuckle. "Which is usually _me_."

Van's expression could be no darker, but he lowered his head slightly, the black bangs creating an eerie effect that hide one eye and cast the other one in shadows but the bright red seemed to burn with its own inner light.

"Princess?" Allen repeated, glancing at the knight at his feet. Carefully, the man leaned over and unhooked the clasps keeping the helmet in place on Dilandau's head. When he pulled the heavy metal helmet, Allen's face contorted in shock and disgust.

Folken watched, a smile tweaking his lips, interested in how things were forming. His brother's wife was faking adultery, oh, he knew the truth, and Serena was revealing herself. That meant the princess was confident no one was going to leave this room alive but her.

It was going to be interesting considering she was still tied up and without a weapon.

"Serena…" Was it him or was the world suddenly losing its color? Allen's mind did a jitter bug as his heart fainted on the spot.

"Brother," Serena cocked her head to the side, wild pink eyes staring up at the man. "Don't look so shocked or I'll think you aren't happy to see me."

"But-" Allen could deal with the fact his sister was dead by another, it saved him from having to kill his flesh and blood, however her reappearing and in a stolen a knight's role was too much! Fury capped his emotional confusion and through clenched teeth he growled out the one question his mind couldn't answer.

"Then where is _Dilandau_?"

Serena's eyebrows made a straight line in annoyance, "I _am_ Dilandau you dimwit!"

Things were coming to a close Stratego wagered. Soon more than just Serena would be revealed and without a doubt, all brothers present would pull their swords and end up screaming and fighting. It couldn't be helped. It was the way of male nature to fight and yell when they had no idea what the fire pits was going on.

"It seems that-" Stratego was cut short as screams sliced through the air drowning out his voice.

The shrieks were coupled with a tremendous shake of the entire room. Those standing quickly spread their legs and arms, trying to remain upright and anchored on both feet. Those already on the ground were shaken on their backs.

Hitomi was pitched forward and smacked foreheads with the still befuddled knight Armand.

"What was _that?"_ Stratego, who had grabbed a hold of the table, demanded. Before any answer could even be guessed, another vicious tremor rocked through the building. Turning to one of the guards he bite out the order to find out what was going on.

"We're under attack!" was the shouted reply from somewhere deeper in the air fortress. "Get to yer battle stations!"

"Who could be attacking? We're all here!" asked a frantic guard as he gripped his spear handle tightly and yelped as another vicious quake whipped through the steel and gears.

"Asturia," Van replied without a hint of doubt in his voice.

"Then we shall have to postpone this meeting." Stratego bowed low, one arm crossing over his chest in a sign of respect.

Then he launched, metal claws flexed and ready to draw blood. Van barely dodged the attack and thanks to his quick reflexes, had his sword pulled and was battle ready within a heartbeat.

"Seize them!" Stratego ordered.

Hitomi felt her stomach sink and the baby coiled tightly in the pit of her stomach once again. She clenched her teeth and felt irritation and pain spread through her body.

Why did the males have to decide _now_ to fight like a bunch of school yard bullies?

"Stupid men!" she hissed.

Armand's eyebrows shot up. This wasn't a good sign.

Van ducked, weaved, blocked and thrust from and at his opponent. Guards filled the room like a group of rats after table scraps and apparently Allen was the tastiest looking nibble. The blonde tripped over his sister, who was busy screaming profanities at the men, but caught his footing, drew his sword and began to fight back.

The battered knight groaned loudly as he was used as a speed bump to one of the more battle weathered guards. With sluggish movements, the shorthaired brunette hoisted his pained body to his elbows then sat up. The fallen guard was cursing his fate when a bruised and bloodied fist gave his left cheek a sound punch.

The man went down with a moan.

"To your feet, your majesty," Armand commanded Hitomi, stripping the guard of his poor quality sword. The knight made a face of distaste, but soon got over it when another sword came down swiftly by his face.

After finishing off another guard, Armand grabbed Hitomi's arm and hauled her to her feet with little effort. He knew he would either wake up dead tomorrow or go to sleep that way.

Van spotted his Queen on her feet and trying her best to blend in with the wall as Armand kept his body between her and danger. Anger overtook him and with a renewed strength, took on Stratego with an even fiercer hand.

"Are you sure this is what you want, Van?" The man asked coolly. His footing was never lost even with the rapid movements of the fight and the constant shaking of the great island. "Why not hear what I have to say?"

The ebony haired man paused in his attack only long enough to tip his head forward, his red eyes the only things visible under the curtain of black hair and shadows that lay over his face.

Folken actually felt fear spear through him. His brother was merely an observer now; the dragon in Van had reared his head. It wasn't angry. It wasn't livid. It was blood thirsty.

Perhaps it was the baser instincts that knew, somewhere in its blood, Folken was another dragon and the threat. He had done the most dangerous thing in the Atlantian or dragon natural laws. He had threatened the mate.

Instincts screamed for the threat to be removed.

Permanently.

"I don't give a _damn_ what you have to say," Van finally replied, punctuating his words with a winning strike against the metallic arm. Two talon-tipped fingers twitched as the fell down between them.

His heart began to race as his eyes enlarged behind the shadows of his hood.

Van twitched, gripped the hilt of his sword tighter and drew back his top lip. He moved again, this time to preparing to make a lethal attack. Van took in a deep breath and launched-

"_Van!_"

Hitomi's scream broke through his haze and with little thought to the danger in presenting the enemy his back, the king twisted around and spotted the pregnant woman cowering on the floor with a large, axe wielding guard looming over her.

A growl of frustration and protection rumbled in his throat as he redirected the attack to the one who was a present threat to his mate. Blinded from all the other chaos, people, and weapons in the room, Van rid the world of one more man as the guard dropped his axe, gargled his last breath as he fell to his knees and then to the side dead.

Tears of fear turned into tears of relief as Hitomi stared up at the scary, yet beautiful man before her. His dragon nature still roared for blood of the first threat but the current situation didn't allow him to continue that battle.

"Armand!" Van shouted to his knight, "Get to the door! The island is going down. We need to get to the guymelefs."

"Yes, sir!" Armand yelped, dodging another sword as he stumbled on his feet.

"How can you still move?" the guard demanded, thrusting his weapon at the bloody face of the brunette.

"The benefits are too wonderful to lose in this job," Armand quipped weakly. He was going to look forward to being swamped with adoring, young and firm female nurses for the next month as he was healed, but for now he had to make sure the battle stories would keep the pretty young things entertained.

During the distraction, Folken had been able to take a breath of safety before he saw a very troublesome knight scramble out the door, free from her bonds, and with the insane smile on her face. Dilandau was going to be the last one to claim victory now she had tipped the scales into an uncertain future for him.

With Allen, Armand, Van, and Hitomi all busy against his dwindling number of guards; Folken took the chance to hunt down the blonde Princess. Another, violent tremor threw him against the wall as he entered the hallway. Grunting, the man pushed himself along the wall and toward the hanger.

Serena was a parasite and opportunist, but also a survivor much like himself. Her main concern was herself and because of that, Folken knew her first priority would be to rescue her skin off the doomed island.

Her second quest in life was to always win. Without knowing much else, she did come to realize just how powerful Escaflowne was compared to other fighters. Perhaps it was his doubt in her sincerity that led him to leave out that key point that only those of Fanel blood could make the mighty machine move.

Either way, there was only going to be blood split between them from now on, he was a clever enough man to recognize that.


	56. Future Flames

**Chapter 56**

* * *

"The island is coming down!" one of the enlisted soldiers screamed triumphantly over the shouts and explosions erupting on the battle field. The general nodded and told him to make sure the attack on the fortress was not lightened until it was on the ground in a smoldering pile of metal and ash.

The man gave the country's salute and returned to the heat of the battle.

"This is too easy without the leaders to bother us," the general boasted to his second-in- command.

The ginger haired man, sitting on top his own horse a little behind the general's horse, made a face of annoyance at his commander.

"But they could come back at any moment, sir," he reminded the man.

"Nonsense! They went into that island and will be nothing more than charred corpses in a few moments!"

"As much as your optimism might be appreciated by the less seasoned fighters," a clear, controlled female voice cut through, "it is a waste of breath to the rest of us."

"Your majesty!" the general announced, "You should not be out here! We are more than-"

"Capable of watching _my people_ die?" Eries finished coldly. "They are _my_ soldiers, _my_ civilians and no one, _soldier_, will ever tell me where to be if not by their side."

The old man stiffened and nodded curtly, "Of course your majesty."

Lucke, the second-in-command, snickered at the reprimand the old codger was given.

The old man bristled at the sound and began to bark orders at Lucke who stuttered and bumbled over his words and actions before trotting away on his horse.

"How are the ground troops fairing?" Eries stared down toward the battle where the bright colors and gray smoke blended together like the cries and screams of the various men.

"Very well," the general bluffed. "We should have done this earlier."

The stone cold eyes of the princess told him she did not believe him in the least. With all the stress that was laid on her shoulders, Eries only shook her head and directed her horse back toward the security of the camp. As much as she wanted to oversee the fight, her body could only take so much and her mind was past exhausted.

After dismounting outside her tent, she instructed her guards to wake her should anything, _anything_, should take a turn for worse or better.

Once she let the tent flap _swoosh_ shut, Eries removed her helmet and threw it into the chair near the opening and sighed. Rubbing her temples slowly, she felt a chill of fear and doubt ripple through her spirit. This is the last place she wanted to be.

Dropping into her soft pillowed cot, she let the long pushed away sleep wrap her mind and body as her men were killing and being killed less than a few miles away.

* * *

"Did they blow up the hanger or are you just that bad at directions?" Armand barked, limping down the shaking corridor after Allen. It had been a short shouting of ideas when the knights and the royalty split up.

"This is the first time I've been here as well," Allen, who was passed amused with Armand, growled out as he picked out another hallway and moved swiftly down it.

Armand moved as fast as a man could with a pronounced limp and cursed under his breath. With the sharp moans and low groans the ship was giving, it was only going to be a few moments before they either found the hangar or wouldn't care.

"So tell me, _Prince _Allen, which one of you is the black sheep of the family? You or that he-she creature?" Armand heard a grunt and some colorful words, but nothing more until there was a sharper, happier tone.

"I found it!" Allen's voice was full of relief that flowed over to Armand but it quickly washed away.

"Don't sound so surprised!" Armand retorted, catching up with the blonde. "You might make me believe that you weren't sure about if there was a second hangar or not!"

* * *

Van pushed his way through the guards who were not interested in the least about fighting as much as they were about their own safety. He had sheathed his sword after the first wave of men ran past him.

He held Hitomi's hand tightly as they searched through the stragglers and winding halls. The king was positive he didn't remember the path to the dock being this long and confusing when they were brought to the room to talk with Stratego.

There were a million things Hitomi had wanted to say, but nothing crossed her lips. What would be the point of talking? Neither of them would be able to really hear the other out and what could she say?

She had provided a distraction from the meeting and ultimately had ended up only hurting Van while driving herself further and further from him.

The dark haired man hadn't said a word to her directly, but spoke to those around her. The baby must have felt the anxiety as it curled deeper and tighter into her belly. Pain shot through her pelvis and for a moment she couldn't move on her own. Doubling over for all of second was enough to have Van turn around, his listless expression never changing.

"Are you okay?" Van's voice was as cold and sharp as his sword.

"F-fine," Hitomi pushed through her lips, "Just let me—let me c-catch my breath."

Van's cinnamon eyes narrowed, given any other non-life threatening time, he would have insisted she not lie to him about her condition. She couldn't be-? No. He was no nursemaid but she would say if she was _that_ far along.

"Fine," he waited for a heartbeat, but another vicious tremor jarred him back into action. Not waiting for her to say she was ready, he grabbed her and with little grace or warning, hefted her up into his arms bridal style and continued the journey.

She felt her face grow hot either in pain or embarrassment it didn't matter.

* * *

Selena quickly removed the stolen sword from the gut of the pilot who had been about to board his guymelef and jerked it to get rid of the excess blood. The machine wasn't the one she preferred but it was the first one she found and it would have to do until she got back to her own machine.

"Leaving?" came a solid, stern voice.

The blonde jerked her head around, blue eyes narrowing. When she caught sight of Folken's form, she couldn't help but give a dangerous grin.

"Better to leave a party early than to be thrown out."

"Even if you are the hostess?" Folken countered, his voice dipping.

"Lecture me if you live," she replied sassily, continuing her climb to the pilot's seat.

She let out a sharp cry as her chin connected with the blunt metal knee of the guymelef as Folken had grabbed her ankle and gave a sharp, powerful jerk causing her to lose her balance and fall.

Anger flared in her eyes as she turned and he dropped her ankle. His hood was pulled back, his eyes narrowed sharply on her.

"What the _seventh realm_ is wrong with you?" she spat through gritted teeth.

"We had a plan," he reminded her coldly as he watched her clamber up to her feet, leaning heavily on the bent leg of the guymelef. "We should do our best to stick to it."

"My half of the bargain was fulfilled. I can't help it if you can't control yours." The tang of iron was in her mouth, blood coated her tongue from the earlier fall.

In a blink she had sword in hand, ready to attack, and lunged toward the tall man. Just as swiftly, he turned at the last possible second, used one hand to grab her throat and the other the sword hand. His grip tightened, the three remaining metal digits broke the skin on her wrist until she gasped in pain and the sword clattered on the ground.

"You may play with him, but you'll never have _her_," Folken hissed, with one quick slam against the guymelef's side, Serena's eyes rolled back in her head as she went limp. He released the female to fall listlessly to the ground.

Eyeing the guymelef Serena was going to hi-jack he sneered and then turned toward something a little more to his taste—Escaflowne.

* * *

The entire battlefield fell into silence as a thunderous _BOOM_ filled and shook the air violently.

For a moment swords were lowered as jaws hung open. Thick, black smoke filled the sky above the warring men and blotted out the sun in many areas. The troops stood in awe as the island slanted heavily to one side, indicating the noise was probably one of the major engines that kept the fortress in the air.

"Wow," one of the lieutenants gaped, stupidly drawing the attention back to himself.

The next thing to leave his mouth was a curse his mother would have slapped him for saying as a meaty fist connected with his armored abdomen. He promptly recovered and brought the hilt of his sword to the nose of the man who struck him.

With their scuffle, the island was forgotten, and the battlefield returned to its hellish glory of screams, blood, and steel.

At the Asturian camp the noise from the falling island caused the few servants brought along to scream in alarm, duck beneath tables, and hide behind thick trees. The one maidservant at the entrance of the princess' tent stoop, but kept steady the tray in her hands.

When the noise dissipated, the servant gave her best weary smile to the two guards.

"The princess said she didn't want to be disturbed," the gruff one chewed out, crossed his arms, and glared at the petite woman.

"I promise," she smiled sheepishly at the guards. One nervously twitched under the pretty girl's attention. "The princess will need her strength to serve us best."

"All right," the second guard finally relented, earning a nasty glare from the gruff one. Too bad for the strict one the nice guard out ranked him and even was ordered to open the flap to let the lady pass through.

She gave a coy smile to the guard who had let her in and he mutely nodded in return.

Eries lay perfectly in the middle of the makeshift bed, her armor cast to the side, her sword laying an arm's length away. She seemed like an illustration from a child's fairy tale with her blonde hair cascading down the side of the bed, her mouth slightly opened, and her face not revealing any of the struggles that were currently grinding into her shoulders.

Careful not to wake the blonde woman, the servant put the tray down silently on one of the tables standing near the wall.

Eries wasn't the princess in this dream though, she was the _villain_. That was the only thought that made it possible for the servant to grab a hold of her waning strength. Lifting up the silver lid covering the tray, she picked up the only thing underneath it.

A slim, dirty knife she had taken off of one of the fallen soldiers before she snuck into the kitchen and stole the tray and lid now rested in her right hand.

Ana had done many things in the past year she was both proud and not proud of, this task would be no different.

With a deep breath and a silent affirmation that this was what she needed to do, the Queen squared her shoulders, narrowed her eyes, and approached the sleeping princess.

* * *

"Wonderful," Armand sneered, "You found a very long way to get to the same _exact place_." The two knights had come eye-to-eye with Van and Hitomi when they entered the hanger a moment before the explosion occurred.

With one side of the engines blown, the four were thrown back into the hallways they had come from. Allen and Armand, again, ended up being much closer than either one ever wanted to be to the other.

Van had been quick to pull Hitomi into his arms, so he would receive the brunt of the jarring impact as they slammed into the metal wall.

Though appreciative, she grunted in pain and not in thanks.

Struggling their way to back into the hanger, their footing was stabilized again when the backup generators leveled out the island, and sent the warning signals screaming.

"I think that's our exit cue," Armand choked out.

"Allen, take Armand and try to stop the fighting. If they are attacking us up here, doubtless they are doing so on the ground," Van ordered, Hitomi looked paler by the moment. "We will follow behind you in Escaflowne."

Before Armand could place where he had seen that look on a woman before, Allen had grabbed him under one of his arms, and dragged him away. The blonde had climbed in to a guymelef and without ceremony or warning, scooped Armand up in one of the large robotic hands like a kitten and cleared the hatch—the brunette screaming all the way down.

Hitomi could barely squeak in surprise as Van's hand, and the rest of his body, disappeared when a blonde and red blur tackled him.

Serena had come from seemingly nowhere and attacked the king down to the ground. Stunned at the unexpected fall, Serena was able to wrestle her way until she straddled the shocked man and raised her fist.

"This is all _your _fault, _monster_!" Serena screeched, her fist meeting his jaw brutally.

The ebony haired man snapped back to reality when the metal covered fist cut into his face. Almost snarling, it took little more than half his muscle and his anger to manage to throw the girl off of him and as he started to draw his sword to finish this mess once and for all, another deafening explosion erupted throughout the hanger.

The generators were gone. The backup engines were blown. Thick and heavy smoke filled the air, choking the occupants and the sunlight, casting the hanger into semi-darkness.

Shaking his head as if trying to clear the ringing from his ears, Van growled in frustration as his red eyes watered and his revenge was once again stripped from him. The floor slanted, the smoke clearing only slightly enough to see the brown and green of the forest below.

This was it.

"_Van!_" Hitomi's voice screamed out in the smoke, launching Van's feet into action. The few guymelefs that were left in the hanger were going to fall out, making it nearly impossible to maneuver through the air.

If they were going to get out of there alive, they had to leave. _Now_.

Another shake and explosion and Van no longer had the choice of leaving, the entire bay slanted to a sharp decline and everything was thrown toward the opened doors. He heard Serena scream and cuss as she went airborne.

There was no time for thinking, only acting.

Van gritted his teeth as the familiar and painful sensation of his wings ripping from his back took over his senses. The next heartbeat he was in the air and diving out of the opened hatch, hoping against all odds Hitomi hadn't fallen out before he could get to her.

As soon as he cleared the opening, he twisted around, and spotted not only Hitomi clinging to a chain that was probably used normally to strap down a guymelef, but Serena with her fingertips dug deeply into the metal door of the hatch.

Swooping down, he grabbed Hitomi who tightened her grip on the chain instinctively.

"Let go!" Van ordered.

Hitomi shook her head decidedly against such an action. She didn't want to know what it would feel like to go 'splat' on the ground. The last thing she wanted to do was to be death's punch line by living through everything and dying _now_.

"I don't want to die!" she exclaimed, Van pulled on her arms, trying to get her off the chains.

"You won't!" Van insisted, wrapping one arm around what was left of her definable waist, and used his other hand to grab her chin and turn her to him. "Look at me," he stated, "_Look._"

Her eyes opened wider than he had ever seen them. The emerald shone with tears and amazement as the smoke quickly caused her to squint again. In shock or acceptance, she let her grip on the chains go slack enough that he managed to free her.

"Damn you!" Serena screamed out, finding enough leverage to leap from where she had been holding on.

The demon-gods must have been laughing at Van when Serena landed roughly on his back, causing his balance to become skewed and his wings near impossible to move.

"_VAN!_" Hitomi's scream filled his ears as Serena brought the sharp edge of her gauntlet to the back of his wing, causing him to howl in pain, and release his hold on his wife.

Serena wrapped her arm around his neck and hissed into his ear, "Watch as your future goes down with mine, _abomination_."


	57. Sword and Sweat

**Chapter 57**

* * *

Fire would have shot from his eyes had it been possible.

From his tired body a new adrenaline-based strength arose. Growling like a feral beast, Van took only a breath before he kicked up his legs and caused his body to make a ninety-degree angle. In the next instant he was plummeting toward the ground after Hitomi, with his wings as close to his body as he could manage and the maniac still clinging to his back.

Selena's grip tightened around his neck in fear as she saw the green forest and gray smoke from the ground growing closer.

With his arms out stretched, he didn't realize he had been holding his breath until Van caught up with Hitomi. He grabbed her roughly and locked his arm like steel bands to keep her safely in his against him.

"Hold on," he whispered in her ear a split second before putting all three of them into a flying somersault.

The change in balance and quickness of the move caused Selena to scream and lose her grip on Van's body, catapulting her away from the couple, and plummeting toward the earth.

When Van stopped, still holding Hitomi tightly as he watched his enemy scream and streak toward the ground. Then he took a steady breath.

The relaxation lasted only a few precious seconds as, to everyone's surprise; the stolen Escflowne flew by, catching the princess.

Cursing loudly, Van felt his stress and adrenaline pump through his heart for the umpteenth time in what seemed like just minutes. His mind started to work out a plan of attack, but was shattered by the sharp pain filled cry that erupted from Hitomi's mouth, next to his ear.

Her eyes had tears running from them as she kept whispering she hurt. Van looked at his pregnant wife and saw the contorted features of her normally lovely face. She needed help before he could go after the crazed princess or her accomplices.

Not to mention it would be difficult to draw his sword with an armful of female.

Trying to make sure the woman was as comfortable as possible; he flapped his wings again and headed toward the very back of his army's encampment. In the back, behind the soldiers, guymelefs, and displaced Fanelian people was where Van insisted the medical tents be situated, that way the weak and doctors would be able to live the longest.

The nurses, who were scampering around caring bandages and bottles to the doctors within the tents, all held their breath as they saw the majestic, heavenly looking man break through the smoke above them and land roughly on his feet.

Red eyes, burning like coals, sought one of the women out.

"You there, help her," he instructed, nodding his head to the still whimpering Queen.

"B-but your majesty!" the older nurse managed to get out. "You said these were for the wounded at war—"

Knowing every moment meant his wife was still in pain and more of his men were dying, Van was not about to have the patience to put up with idle chatter from the medical people.

Nearly snarling, he stalked closer to the now trembling nurse.

"You will help her. That is my command. She is your Queen," he cut out. "And your heir is with her. She comes _first_." Van narrowed his eyes, "Am I understood?"

"Y-y-y-yes! Yes, my king!" She called for a few others to help her get the Queen to a free bed and to be examined.

Van stood by, making sure they weren't going to forget about her as soon as he disappeared. Gritting his teeth in lost time and anger, he turned to start his flight back to the main fight - to stop it or to aid in it he was unsure.

The last words he heard clearly from the medical tents was a young female voice speaking in astonishment as she declared, "She is about to give birth!"

Another thing he had to protect, Van sighed within his heart.

Taking to the air, high above the fight, the winged King sought out the thing of most importance to win the fight, Escaflowne.

Allen was already engaged in a fight with the dragon; already back into the guymelef form, in the far corner of the battle field.

The king took off in their direction going as fast as his wings could carry him.

There was no way Van's pride and anger would ever allow anyone else the pleasure of conquering the man who tormented his kingdom.

Stratego would fall by Van's sword and no one else's. His heart dark with revenge, the king descended upon the dragon.

* * *

Selena was grateful for the very timely save by her commander, but at the same time was not appreciative of being stuck in a tree. What was worse is that she had to find a way to shimmy down a tree with armor on.

She was going to shave Stratego bald and set his scalp on fire when this was done.

With a hard clunk, Selena finally made it down the tree she had been left in and stared up at the sky, trying to get her bearings. The sun was steadily rising, which meant her camp was west of this spot.

Grunting the princess set out to find her camp, get into the pilot seat of her guymelef, and then make the world burn!

This forest, this country, Asturia and all the surrounding areas would be an inferno until all that was left is Zaibach!

Then she would be what she was always meant to be: the sovereign of fate. Nothing would be done without her direction and no one would dare breathe a whisper of rebellion unless they wanted it to be their last breath. When ever, if ever, she died, everything would fall into beautiful and sensuous chaos without her.

Such thoughts caused her to run, too eager to get to her men, and to her guymelef so her dreams would be seen that much sooner. She would have to kill Van, that screeching wife of his, and the flowery, mouthy knight as well.

As she stumbled onto her camp, she gritted her teeth.

The soldiers were in utter confusion. They were like kittens in the river without her direction and that made her both proud and furious. Grabbing one of the closest men to her, she growled at him.

"What in the seventh circle is going on!"

"P-princess!" the man struggled out and then his eyes went wide when he took in her armor.

"Stop staring you idiot and answer my question!"

"W-we are losing!" his eyes were full of fear, "The Fanelians started to turn against us when they saw Escaflowne and one of our guymelefs fighting!"

Pushing him away from her, her anger reached to a fever pitch of a red haze, and her attention was now completely on finding her guymelef. She had to kill Allen and call him a traitor to get the Fanlians' trust back long enough to win and then kill them.

Securing a sword and helmet from one of her country's dead, she slipped on the helmet, and started to hack and slash her way through the men. Her guymelef was on the other side of the camp and she didn't care what she had to do to get there, she was going to kill Allen.

Barking orders to kill without restraint to every group of her soldiers she came across, she felt some of her lost power return. They feared Dilandua and because of that, carried out his orders without a moment's question.

Males always held more power.

It enraged her that she had a man's spirit in a weak female's body.

After what seemed like eternity, his beautiful killing machine came within a running distance. Sheathing his sword, the General Knight started to sprint toward the gleaming metal creation.

Before his hand could even touch the leg, two Astrian guymelefs descended, and destroyed the machine in front of him.

Her blue eyes tripled in size a blink before she opened her mouth to let a scream that sounded like a cross between a dying animal and man erupted from her lungs with such power that those around her paused from fighting.

Fate had been stripped from her again!

Memories of the last time she made such a noise pushed to the forefront of her barely functioning brain.

The old emperor, her step-father…

…laughing, telling her how beautiful she was…

…stealing her childhood at the age of 6…

… stealing her innocence…

…forever making her hate that she was a weak female…

…birthing inside her the male personality, her Dilandau…

…it was through the strength of Dilandau that she held that knife…

…that she laughed as the knife plummeted time after time into the old man's chest…

…her mother screaming as she woke up to a knife slicing her throat open…

…her brother screaming at her as she stood in front of him, covered in their blood…

…the sweet taste of the metal and blood as she licked dripping blade.

A nearly forgotten promise had been cut into her stone by the cruel hand of pain came back to light.

_"I shall control my own fate," the blonde child whispered, and then raised her knife high in the air before thrusting it into the old man who had believed it was fate that brought them together—to be lovers._

* * *

Sweat beaded all along her skin, the nurse in charge wiped the droplets with a damp cloth while another nurse held the Queen's hand. Over the short time between her being dropped off and now, the tanned woman grew steadily paler in complexion.

Worry grew more and more tangible.

The water, they thought, had been broken before she landed at their door step, but the baby still had yet to crown. The poor nurses were left to deal with the birth since none of the doctors knew anything about birthing babies. They were train to sew up things that were bleeding, not encouraging something to come through the opening!

The head nurse instructed for everyone to try and make her as comfortable as possible and to pray. Pray for her, pray over her, and just pray a miracle would wash over the tent and allow the heir and queen to survive this experience.

Armand, who also had been abandoned in a tree, sat outside the tent. He was nearly wrapped from head to toe in bandages from a hasty first-aid attempt by a nervous, first time doctor. Pain was still sharp as a razor and cut his good sense in half, but there he sat.

Falling from the tree probably wasn't the wisest thing to do, but he had been working on ways to hurt Allen, lost his balance, and dropped like a stone acorn to the ground. The blonde knight had deposited him a mile or two away from the encampment when they touched ground.

Wanting to start fighting as soon as possible, Allen had abandoned the brunette knight in the nearest tree and took off.

When Armand had come to the camp, he was aided to the medical tents, he heard, by chance, that the Queen was already there, and in the middle of her labor.

Haphazardly he had been wrapped up and with no new orders to follow; the knight fell back to his old one.

Protect the Queen of Fanelia.

He ordered a sword from the depleted armory and sat like a statue in front of the tent where the blonde woman lay.

Hurting and tired, the man wanted to fall asleep and wake up surrounded by some smoldering hot nurses who would be more than willing to aid him back to health along with some other bonuses.

But his sense of duty knocked that want back into submission.

He sighed and cringed as he did so, feeling the smarting wounds throb in anger.

A tearful nurse pulled the flap to the tent open and stepped out, letting it fall close behind her as she hid her face in her hands. A light sob caused Armand to question what was wrong.

Fear griped his heart tightly, hoping against all evil wills, that the Queen was still among the living.

"The—her majesty! She needs help!" the young woman exclaimed, looking down at the knight. "The doctors don't know how to bring a child into the world and we can't help her anymore! We don't know what to do to make it better and she is growing weaker!"

Of course that _brat_ couldn't make anything easy, was Armand's first thought.

Grunting, the wounded man pulled himself to his feet, swayed unsteadily before his vision stopped swimming, and then squared his shoulders. He pinpointed one of the squires and barked for him to find a soldier to replace himself as guard over the tent.

Since Armand looked more like a roll of fabric than a knight, the young boy cockily replied that he would not obey a nobody.

"I am Sir Armand DeCri, direct bodyguard to the Queen of Fanelia as appointed by the King of Fanelia, so don't tempt me to use your guts to string my bow!" Not that Armand actually _had_ a bow; he felt it was too archaic for his tastes.

The young boy's eyes widened, he bowed, and stammered an apology before running off to find a suitable replacement.

When the boy returned with a grossing blacksmith-turned soldier, Armand sent the youth to get him a horse.

"What good am I here?" the blacksmith demanded, "I am better suited for the armory."

"Don't worry, you won't have to fight—you're more or less a temporary distraction to get the Queen to safety if anyone comes to kill her." The bluntness made the grouchy man turn pale. "And don't you dare faint on me, you skirt!"

"Sir! Your horse!" It was a beautiful, fully rested caramel colored stallion that clopped his front hooves in anticipation.

It was a familiar beast.

"This is the—"

"The king's stallion. He never really uses him, and he is the only one we have that is without a rider."

"Nothing like being a moving target," Armand grumbled and was assisted into the saddle. After strapping on his sword and pushing down the contents of his queasy stomach, the man set off toward the Asturian camp.

The country was famous for its advanced medical abilities. If necessary the man would kidnap a doctor from that side and drag him back to aid the Queen.

King Van just received his wife back, Armand didn't want to know what type of pain and anguish the man would go through if he had to lose her now.

Again.

For good.

Not to mention it would probably put a real kink in Armand's chances of promotion.

* * *

Eries felt the pinprick of the short blade against the back of her neck and continued forward, deeper into the woods and closer to the enemy camps.

She had been surprised, to say the least, when she opened her eyes to see the cold, steel blade of a knife pointed directly at her throat.

"Make a single noise and though they may kill me, we will walk hand in hand to the seventh realm together," came the icy, unforgiving voice of her captor. "Now get up."

The princess obeyed and after slicing the back of the tent open, was directed into the woods by the red head.

Further and further they moved away from the screams and blades of the fight. It had only been about an hour and yet it raged on without any sign of stopping.

Ana's anger was like a coiled dragon resting in the pit of her stomach. If she faltered, she would end up dead, and then no one would be able to seek vengeance of both her husband and baby girl.

"Why are you doing this now?" Eries finally questioned. "Why not kill me in my sleep?"

The red head woman swallowed, her hands started to tremble. The thought of stabbing the blonde Princess in her slumber had been her intentions, but when she raised the blade, she found her strength abandoned her.

"Because -" Ana's mind reeled, trying to think of something—anything that would make what she was doing sound right. "Because—if they found you in a tent, dead, they'd know you were murdered!" Yes! That sounded plausible. "This way they'll think you abandoned your army and your country!"

Ana would have beamed at her quick thinking if Eries had answered her anything. Instead, the blonde woman nodded, as if she agreed, and continued to walk their aimless path.

It was a few moments later when Ana spotted a somewhat ideal location to stop. It was a small pond with the morning sunlight choked out by the thick forest around its edges. Licking her lips, she instructed the princess to enter the pond up to her knees.

Sighing, Eries did as she was told and stood as still as a statue in the cold water. The water sloshed into her boots, sending chills down her spine.

"How do you intend to hide my body?"

"I am a peasant, remember? All I have to do is gut you and your body will sink." The words bore into Eries' bones. For the first time since she woke up, fear actually started to nip at her heart.

Ana was livid.

The possibility the Queen might find the will to kill her shook Eries. To her surprise, her heart felt a sickening peace settle on it from the idea of death.

"Do you really want to kill me, Queen Mena?" Eries asked in solemn voice.

There was a slight pause as Ana swallowed the heavy lump in her throat. "Y-yes, of course I do!"

"Then do so," Eries instructed, turning her head just enough so her profile could be seen by the redhead. "Just be kind enough to stab me through my heart."

* * *

Van hefted his sword far over his head and with all his might and help from gravity, he buried it deep into the cockpit of Escaflowne.

Grunting, the man held on for life as the operator thrashed around wildly, trying to throw the young king off of the guymelef. With the sword lodged in the metal, and the young king with an iron grip on the sword's hilt, it was proving impossible.

Allen took the opportunity to ball his metal fist and slam it into the right shoulder of Escaflowne. He didn't draw his sword down on the guymelef since he spotted the King trying with all his might to reclaim his birthright.

Allen didn't particularly want to take the chance of accidentally killing the King. This fight was supposed to end the war, not stir up a new one.

Sweat and blood mingled and burned the scraps and scratches as they dripped down Van's face and body. Growling like a starving animal, the man put all his strength into breaking the closing restraints that kept the man inside protected from his sword and wrath.

All his senses seemed alive, his strength inhuman, and his mind never worked with such a clear and absolute capacity. Nothing meant more than dislodging the man from Escaflowne. Even if it meant destroying the mighty guymelef, it would be better than having it in enemy hands.

The metal screeched in protest and he felt his blade successfully break—something.

In a heartbeat, there was a smirk of personal triumph until Van found himself sailing through the air. All the air was forced from his lungs as he slammed into a tree. His eyes rolled back in his head as he fell gracelessly and impacted the ground with a hard thud.

Meanwhile, Stratego cursed under his breath as he gripped the fabric above the bleeding wound inflicted when Van's sword ripped into the cockpit. The man was mad, he couldn't very well expect to fight with one arm limp as he applied pressure to the wound.

What was that old saying? Run, run, run away to live to fight another day?

The blue haired Fanelian born male swore under his breath and willed the mighty guymelef to convert its form from the man-like to the dragon-like. Dissimilar from his head strong brother, the man knew sometimes it took regrouping to successfully defeat the enemy and also that the winner's wrote the history scrolls and therefore their retreat could be simply forgotten.

With the dragon ready to take to the air, Folken made a split second last choice and as the beast collected the limp form of the dark haired king. If the snake lost his head, the body would be useless. If he had Van, then the Fanelian army would be at his mercy.

Folken used ever strength he could muster to ignore the burning pain that shot up his arm as he utilized the dragon's short forearms to secure the king and lift him far enough into the air that Van could be dropped gracelessly onto the flat of the pilot's stand.

The king secured and the fight still swirling close by in a frenzy of steel and blood, Folken decided to take his leave.


	58. Siblings

**Chapter 58**

* * *

_Damn horse must be drunk_, Armand thought as his vision blurred and shifted from side to side. The mount was sure footed; it was the rider who tilted unsteadily in the saddle.

Sounds mixed into a drum like thumping in his head. The battle was edging out of his hearing, but the horse's steady clopping made it impossible for the ache to go away.

This, perhaps, wasn't his most shining moment of brilliance since he was low on energy, sleep, and health but it made sense to his out-of-commissioned sense.

The Queen was in medical trouble and none of the Fanelian doctors or nurses were being of any help. Asturia was known for their ever improving medical skills, therefore it was perfectly logical to kidnap a doctor from _that_ side, bring him to _their_ side and force him to aid the Queen.

That is, of course, if he neglected, which he was, the fact he was wearing more bandages than clothing, that he'd have to invade a camp full of blood-thirsty warriors, kidnap a doctor from the tents, and then made him help the Queen while trying to make sure the doctor wasn't going to _kill_ the queen.

Ah, sweet denial.

But denial only tricked the mind, not the body and it was the body that was sore, battered, and bleeding that was retreating from the fight.

"Not yet," he commanded himself, shaking his head in an attempt to clear his double vision. "I can't give up yet."

* * *

Van's mind twirled like a little girl in a field of flowers as it made a desperate climb back into the world of the conscious. He had never been on the painful side of alcohol and if this was any type of relative to a hangover, he was going to make damn sure he never was on _that_ side.

"I thought the impact would keep you unconscious until dusk," a smooth, deep tone pierced through the noise of his mind and brought about instant clarity to the King.

Stratego.

All the memories and throbs of a war weary person came swooping into his mind and body, with gritted teeth, the King clambered to his feet.

Escaflowne, in its dragon form, rested to the side of a clearing they landed in. The thick trees and dense leaves lined the outside of the clearing like a dark halo surrounding the Dragon King. The smell of smoke could be tasted in the air, as the screams and clashing of guymelfs was heard in the distance.

The war was not over, the battle was still raging. Van knew he needed to get back to his men, to lead them as he should.

Before the body could be disposed of, he first had to remove the head of the snake.

Red, rage filled eyes as he scouted the area, like an eagle searching for a mouse to rip apart in its talons, until he found the tall, dark silhouette of his enemy.

Folken lifted one elegant blue eyebrow at his brother's stubbornness, but then again, the boy always had been thick headed.

"Where are we?" Van hissed, in anger or pain, it was uncertain, but it undoubtedly gave a dark, powerful effect. At least it would have if Folken had never seen his brother as a five-year-old, naked and skipping through the dining hall in front of fifty or so guests in Fanelia's castle.

The dark haired male struggled to a kneeling position, like a wild cat ready to pounce, eyes narrowing tightly.

"About a mile from the battle," Folken answered, slowly stepping from the shadows. His wounded arm hung at his side, not wanting to let the angered man know he was injured, and therefore potentially weaker, Folken covered the appendage with his cape.

"Why not kill me while you could?" Van straightened to his full height, he shifted the sword in his hand, and glared harder at Stratego. "Or disarm me? You could very well regret those decisions later."

"Whoever said that I wanted you dead, Van?"

Shock might have tackled the king, but instead of showing it, he simply smirked as if it had tickled him instead.

"What use am I to you alive?" Van questioned, almost sardonically, "_You _were my ally, supposedly, and I have no palace or riches to be ransomed for any longer. You saw to that."

"_'A castle does not make a kingdom'_," Stratego quoted, this time seeing the confusion rise in a twitch of his brother's lowered brows.

The words were ones his father constantly recited to Van when grooming him to be a ruler. The other young royals destined for the throne, had sneered at Van in court, calling him a weed of the Court and his palace nothing more than a hen house. It was his father's way of comforting his son.

They were private words. Never, to the King's knowledge, had they been shared or written down.

"Who are you?" it was a demand thinly disguised as a question.

"Don't you recognize your own blood?" Stratego responded, a smile tracing his lips, "Your own—" He stepped closer to Van, allowing the shadows to fall away from his face, exposing it to the ebony haired man, "- brother?"

Never in Folken's most creative scenarios could he have predicted Van's reaction.

Van started laughing.

* * *

When she made her request, the princess turned around, stood straight with her shoulders back, and her chin lifted regally. She would not be killed begging or like a shameful harlot. She was _still_ royalty and intended to die with a sliver of grace.

Behind her, Ana found anger and fear performed a flip flop of surprise when Eries said to aim for her heart. Ana thought the princess would beg and plead for her life, would show weakness or fear but—the plea of a swift death threw her out of her bravado.

Swallowing thickly, Ana attempted to wet her lips by licking them with her tongue only to realize her entire mouth had gone dry. All the moisture had bypassed her mouth and throat and stung her eyes, wanting to be let out in the fat tears that threatened to fall any second.

Eries, not sure what to expect, turned her head slightly to stare at the trembling queen. The red head's whole body shook, the knife was quaking so badly it didn't seem as if it would stay in her hand much longer.

"Why?" Ana finally asked, her eyes burning with indecision and tears.

"Why?" Eries parroted, turning around, in order to look at her captor better.

"Why would you _say_ something like that? Is this some type of Asturian mind trick?"

The blonde raised an eyebrow in silent question.

"I assure you there is no trick, but a plea." Her eyes turned downward, looking at the reflection the water of the lake had to offer. Blonde hair and blue eyes, just like her sisters'.

Her older sister, Marlene, was the kind, romantic one who wanted to save the world.

The same world Marlene was trying to save was the one Eries had ordered her men to burn to the ground to prevent the evil that was Zaibach and Fanelia from spreading over all of Gaea.

Then her younger sister, Millerna, was the spunky, free-spirited girl who wanted to heal the world.

There were men strewn from one side of Gaea to the next that were dead or dying, entire nations that had disappeared in one night due to the sword and wives and children crying for mercy at the bridge of the castle.

"The kingdom will survive without me," Eries replied solemnly. "An heir will be chosen to replace me, most likely the winning general from the army." Taking a deep breath, the princess faced forward once more, her body language speaking of a strong and noble lady.

"That's _it?_" Ana questioned, "You would lay down your life in order to not have to be _Queen_?"

"I would lay down my life in order not to have to forget my sisters. If I don't forget them I could never live with what I have become. The very type of monster they wanted to vanish from this world I have embraced," Eries' voice was softer toward the end, as if speaking to herself more than to Ana.

Ana opened her mouth to say something, but the snapping and muttering from nearby caused both women to earn their attention in that direction.

The first part of the person to emerge was a very sharp, very steadily held sword.

"Let the princess _go,_" the stranger's voice was guttural, as if he was forcing the words pass pain, "Or I will kill you."

* * *

"Stop this madness!" Allen hollered.

His bark might as well have been in a dog kennel.

No one was paying any attention to the man.

If he had been any more sleep deprived, childish, or angry, he would have thrown a world class hissy fit. Needless to say he didn't think that would give the image of authority he needed in order to quit the chaos.

Fanelia and Zaibach had been brothers in arms, but it was wrong. Zaibach was a wolf slaughtering the sheep with the aid of the naïve shepherd.

The tide and alliances changed when Escaflowne and a Zaibachian guymelef traded blows. The Fanelians, recognizing the royal metal warrior, turned on the Zaibach nation and Asturia soldiers didn't seem to mind the fortunate events.

Then Van disappeared with the guymelef of his home country and there wasn't much Allen could do for him. It was either save the king or save the kingdom. What good was a king without a people? Van's new job would be a grounds' keeper of the largest cemetery in history.

Not a prospect that Allen could see Van happily agreeing to do.

He had to stop them from fighting before there were no men left alive from any of the countries!

Growling, the blonde maneuvered the borrowed guymelef toward the encampment where the head of the Zaibachian army stayed. If he could change the mind of the snake, the body would stop wiggling. If the generals gave him any lip about stopping the fight, he was step on them.

He would do a jig on their tents if need be.

Shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts, Allen continued on while he tried not to imagine a giant guymelef two-stepping around a camp ground.

* * *

He was _laughing_.

It wasn't a humorous laugh. It sound could barely be considered _human_.

Van wasn't rolling around on the ground, kicking, with tears coming from his eyes, but he was laughing by chuckling under his breath.

It was a cold sound and one Folken had never believed his little brother capable of creating.

"Brother, we—"

"My brother is _dead_," Van's spat out, the laughter gone. "He died years ago."

"I assure you, Van, I am alive and before you." Folken stepped closer and Van's upper lip curled back slightly in silent warning to stop. "I am your blood and flesh brother, Folken."

Van's eyes were two glowing rubies of inner rage and determination, the hand holding the sword tightened on the hilt as his words were short, "My brother is _dead_."

When that didn't seem enough to convince his enemy as Folken opened his mouth, but was cut short.

"No matter the _name_, no matter what _voice _or _face_ or _anything_, you are _Stratego_. My brother died years ago when he abandoned family and kingdom for whatever reasons." Van's teeth were clenched tightly together, giving him every ounce of the powerful warrior air he possessed. "The only family I have is waiting for my return back at _my_ camp, with _my_ men. I will not forsake them." He paused; a cruel smirk touched his lips, "as my brother did."

"I am sorry that you feel that way, Van," Startego stated, "And I am sorry to say you will not be returning to your men, not _alive_ at least."

It only took the smallest twitch of the elder Fanelian's fingers to ignite the final battle between the two brothers.

Van launched forward, sword at side, and death in his eyes.

Folken, realized in his injured state he was no match for the more practiced and angered younger man and used his energy to retreat back to the safety of Escaflowne.

Van's sword cut through the air, slicing clothe and flesh that made the blue haired man stumble.

Growling in pain, Folken dropped to the ground, using Van's forward momentum against him as he grabbed the king's arm, placed a foot in his rib cage, and sent the warrior flying into the woods. Rolling to his feet, only stopping a split second to wince in pain, Folken managed to climb into the seat of Escaflowne once again.

He started the mighty machine and began to move it when a scream of rage distracted him.

Van's sword sunk deep into the mask of Escaflowne, his teeth bared, and he barely heard the scream of anguish that let loose from under his blade.

In a vain attempt to save himself, Folken grabbed his brother in a metal hand and squeezed him, eliciting a cry of pain from the King.

That was his last bit of conscious strength; the world swam with black in Stratego's eyes.

Van was released, falling like a crumpled piece of paper to the ground as Escaflowne lost its balance and toppled to the ground.

* * *

"Let," Armand swallowed the rocks in his throat, "let the princess go, I need her alive."

Eries eyes widened in surprise. The man, who looked more like a peasant, spoke with a clear Fanelian accent. Why would the _enemy_ be helping _her_?

Then again, why was she standing almost waist deep in a cold pond in the middle of the woods with a peasant-turned-queen threatening to kill her?

Life was just that kind of bored and wished to wreck hell on everyone and their senses these days.

"Why?" Ana asked, her fear creeping up her spine. Her daring was a thing of the past as she felt her _own_ life now in greater jeopardy than it had been before. True the man before them swayed, and looked like he had risen from the dead, but the point being he was still armed, most likely trained with the sword and eyeing her like she was going to die.

She _really _didn't want to die.

She just wanted to grieve for her husband, find, and raise her little girl.

"Because I _need_ her," he insisted, taking a step forward.

Eries surveyed the Queen and the strange man before her breeding and education on peace keeping stepped in.

"I assure you, sir, Queen Mena was not going to do anything to me but cut my hair."

Ana and Armand looked at Eries like she had just proposed that they all strip, build a camp fire, and do some sort of pagan monkey dance.

Reaching up to the shaking woman, Eries placed her hand on Ana's, and gently guided her shaking hand with the knife down.

"Fine time to pick a make-over," Armand muttered, "the world is being thrown into the seventh realm and the women are worried about their _hair._"

He lowered his own sword and leaned heavily against a nearby tree. Armand still needed to aid Hitomi, but his strength was drained completely by dismounting, well, actually falling gracelessly from the saddle to the woods in a curse, and stopping the hair cutting session.

"What is it you need my assistance with?" Eries sloshed out of the pond, ignoring her would-be-assassin, and drew closer to the wounded man.

Without a second thought, Armand dropped to his knees, he kept his face bowed in the lowest fashion to show complete and utter submission to the two women before him.

"I beg you, your—" he swallowed and coughed harshly, "your country can save Queen Hitomi."

Upon hearing her sister's name, Ana's ears perked and her feet carried her forward until she was able to kneel before the humbled man.

"What is wrong with her majesty?" Ana's words were pleading.

"Fanelia was tricked by Zaibach and is now fighting against them. Even now, King Van and Princess Serena are at ends," Armand lifted his head, eyes begging, "More importantly, the heir to the Fanelian throne and the Queen are in a great deal of danger. She is giving birth, but something isn't right and she grows weaker every moment!" His voice and face lowered, the knight answered, "Both will—will die if a doctor is not brought immediately."

"Please," it was clear from his pale features, multiple bandages, and his panting that he was pushed beyond exhaustion and still functioning. "Please, help. My horse—my horse can take you to the camp."

As if cued, a regal animal appeared out of the shadows, greatly appreciating the small pink flowers that were blooming in the clearing.

"How can we trust you?" Eries, ever the clear thinker, questioned. "You may just be an actor who is playing a part to lead us to our deaths."

Ana shot her a rather disapproving look over her shoulder and then focused on the animal. Instantly, she recognized the family crest stitched on the horse's trapper. It pawed at the ground restlessly, eager to be entertained by something or someone livelier than the crouching man and two females.

Fear and worry replaced death and pain as Ana asked urgently, "Has her water broken? Has the baby crowned?"

"Madam," Armand bit out, "I may be a willing to give my life for the queen but I will _not_ look under her skirt, no matter _what_ might be happening underneath it."

"I am going to my sister. Stay with him," Ana ordered, grabbing the horse's reins and proceeding to mount it much like a man would and _not _a Queen.

Eries eyes flared with anger at being ordered about.

"I most certainly will not!"

Ana, eager to go and attend to her sister, glared with all her might at the blonde.

"Stay with him or I will just kill you _now_."

The knife was still in her hand and Eries eyed it, wondering if she should really see if Ana was as determined this time as she hadn't been the last time this threat was issued. Then, the princess thought, had someone been standing between _her_ and saving her sister's life, they _would _be expendable.

"Very well." Eries received a curt nod and watched as Ana jabbed the creature in the rib cage causing it to whiney in protest and start off in a full run back the way it had come.

Armand, having rolled to his side on the ground, moaned and caught the princess' attention.

She wanted nothing more than to leave and go back to the camp she'd come from, not only to oversee her men, but also to spite the peasant Queen who thought so highly of herself to boss around a princess _born. _

Then, as she turned to go, an image of her sisters' flashed in the front of her mind.

Neither of them, regardless of what anyone had done to them, would ever leave this man to suffer alone.

Instead of leaving, she dropped to her knees in the soft dirt and coaxed his head into her lap.

She would forever bear the burden of facilitating in destroying the world in a single day, but perhaps she could find redemption, one piece at a time.


	59. Changing Tides

**Chapter59**

* * *

"I saw it come this way!" Loit, a Fanelian soldier, shouted over his shoulder to the small group of men he was able to drag away from the battlefield in order to find their King.

"How can you see anything in all this muck?" an older man screamed, limping quickly to stay with the rest of the group.

The smoke from the fallen and destroyed guymelefs had weighed the air with gray clouds and wafted far into the woods. Sunlight only added to the heat and thickness of the atmosphere. They traveled far enough to where the air was almost clear again only to be chocked by fresh, heavy black smoke that seemed to slither into their lungs and blot their vision.

Stubbornness, like dark hair, was a popular trait in Fanelia.

It was only through this sheer stubbornness that Loit and the others had refused to turn around and shrug off the possibility the King might need their aid.

There had been mass confusion on the field when Escaflowne and a Zaibachian guymelef viciously attacked one another. Those in charge of the Fanelian army saw this and quickly deduced that it was the will of the King to fight Zaibach, though they didn't know _why_, they considered it would be better to start fighting them than to be screamed at later on.

Upon the turn of the fight, Zaibachian soldiers seemed to lose their steam and some even went as far as to throw down their swords, knowing that being surrounded by Fanelia on one side and Austria on the other left their chances of winning near non-existent.

When Escaflowne flew off in dragon form, the men were mystified, but continued to fight even though some claimed the King a coward.

Loit, guiltily, had believed this too until the black smoke rose from where he had seen the mighty guymelef descend. It was then the possibility that the King was in trouble entered his mind.

"Are we there yet?"

"You can die now," the older man grouched.

Doubt gnawed at the young soldier as he pushed a heavy branch out of his face and spotted the missing guymelef. His eyes enlarged, his mouth hung open, and his breath stopped cold. The others grumbled about this as they coughed and went around either side of him only to end up in the same stone shock.

"By the gods," Loit whispered out, his throat tightening.

It was almost as if a veil had been lifted from the small glen as the smoke rose up and slightly above the trees allowing clarity to the scene before them.

The island had crashed and they were shocked.

The allies turned on each other and they were confused.

Escaflowne had left the battlefield and they were doubtful.

Never had they, even in the darkest moments, lost hope or faith in the royal family, in their King.

Until now.

Fire licked higher than the trees and danced like damned spirits all over the twisted metal and across the pooling dark red oil. The intense smell of burning earth and mechanics would take up residence in their hair and clothes for days and last forever in their minds.

"Is that—" the gruff old man started, his voice barely audible as the heat caused another oil drenched part of the machine to rumble, groan, and finally explode in a fiery display.

"The King is in there?" someone else asked.

Loit felt his heart sink into the ground, briefly wondering if he should just run from this sight, from this battle, and never look back. He felt his throat constrict tighter in fear but, again, that Gaea-renowned stubbornness kicked him swiftly in his chicken feathered growing heart and he whispered a command.

"Excuse me?"

His eyes snapped forward, burning from smoke and fear.

"We have to search for the King and bring him back to the camp. Dead or alive, we _have_ to, we _owe_ him that much."

The others hung back, hesitant, as Loit tromped forward, heading directly for the destruction.

"I'm not going to be out done by some young whipper-snapper!" the grouchy old man proclaimed and followed Loit.

"Die here, die there," one joked darkly, "it's only geography."

* * *

With most of the guymelefs either damaged or destroyed, Allen saw this as an opportunity to shout, scream, kick, or cry to get the men to stop this battle. He ejected from the pilot's seat of his borrowed guymelef and was surprised to see many Zaibachian soldiers already unarmed and kneeling on the ground surrounded by either triumphant looking Asturian or confused Fanelian soldiers.

He was dumbfounded for a moment, wondering why the prideful men would willingly give up, but he decided not to look too closely at the mouth of _that_ gifted horse. Toward the middle of the chaos was his focus.

The men were still seeking blood and from what the blonde man saw while piloting the guymelef, there was no one directing the traffic. Van had disappeared somewhere; the generals of Asturia were probably sleeping or eating back in their headquarters and Zaibach's leaders—where _were _the Zaibachian leaders?

Grabbing an abandoned sword from the ground, Allen ran into the midst of the fight. If he could get Zaibach to listen to him as their prince and Asturia as their knight (_if _they didn't know he was –_technically_ decommissioned, wanted, and a prince of the opposing force— good thing he was optimistic… mostly) then there was still a chance to get this all to stop.

* * *

"_Out of the way_!" Serena screamed as she cleaved and slashed her way through the men, regardless of their allegiance. The fighting toward the outskirts of the battlefield had stilled and the confusion of who was supposed to fight who was slowly slithering its way into the heart of the battle.

It was at the pulsating, bleeding heart that Serena hacked and shoved her way through the men. Her men, _their_ men—it didn't matter. She was a lioness on the hunt for death. The light of the sun emphasized the pink, nearly red, crazed light of her eyes.

"Prin—"

Serena whirled around, her sword going high and strong, struck the man in the neck, slicing it open. The warrior, one of her officers, gurgled and fell to his knees his eyes wide in disbelief.

_Men_, she seethed inwardly, _it was always men_.

She didn't know where to go now. All her hard work, all her plans had been ripped from her—by a _man._

No, not a man, an _abomination_.

Just like her step-father.

The thought of the bastard made her blood turn into pure lava as she launched a blind attack at two men who were trying to pull a wounded soldier from harm.

Like an arrow shot in the dark, she was without purpose or direction but lethal. With her men starting to lay their swords down, she was losing power and ground to Asturia, but mainly to Fanelia.

The abomination was _winning_.

If nothing else, she could always strike the head, she could always _kill_ Van.

His head was meant for her to sever from his body! It always had been!

His armor was too recognizable and heavy and this assassination plan would require swift, unseen actions. Snapping and shucking off the breast plate, gauntlets, and every other scrape of the protective metal, Dilandua felt as light as a feather and knew he'd be as fast as lightening. With refreshed determination, the princess set off toward the surrounding forest, intent on making it to the Fanelian camp, and slaying the royal family.

Dilandau growled as another group dropped to their knees in front of the enemy, surrendering.

Then flash of blue and gold seen from the corner of his eye made the murderous knight jerk his head toward the one wearing the colors. Dark pink eyes narrowed as he drew his lip back, bearing his clenched teeth in a near feral expression of rage.

_Allen_, his mind hissed venomously.

Van could wait. He'd most likely be with the cow of his wife back at his camp before long so he wasn't going to be too hard to locate.

Allen was _here_. Allen was _distracted_. Allen was going to be _dead_.

Dilandau's feet were swift and sure as he gripped the sword's hilt, raised it above his head, and with a cry of fury, launched at Allen, cleaving downward with his sword.

The cry of pain erupted from the man as he staggered backwards, away from his attacker. His face was twisted in an expression of pain and anger.

_Good_, Dilandau thought, smirking.

Allen's eyes grew large when he saw who was standing before him, blade pointed directly at his chest, and death coloring her features.

"Serena," the man breathed in slight confusion.

With a growl, Dilandau flew forward, sword swinging toward the knight. Allen's instincts had kicked in as he drew his sword to block her mad movements. His left shoulder was bleeding from her earlier ambush and thankfully didn't throw off his swordsmanship.

"I am _not_ Serena! I am _Dilandau_!" she screeched.

The two blondes dodged the fallen, injured, and speechless men on the battlefield as they danced around a circle in the middle of the battle. Curious men stopped to watch as Asturia's famed knight and a _woman_ clashed swords and exchanged grunts.

Allen's first instinct was to fight to win, but a strong nagging voice kept repeating he was fighting a _girl_. He was fighting his precious little _sister_.

Yes, she was trying to _kill_ him at the moment, but it didn't change the blood tie.

"Serena," Allen started, swiftly maneuvering out of the path of her sword's edge. The momentum from her failed blow caused her to stumble forward.

The knight used the hilt of his sword and hit her solidly at the base of her skull when she tripped past him. It wasn't meant to permanently injure as much as disorient her for a moment.

If he could only speak to her, try to get Serena to listen to him, he just knew she'd snap out of this blood thirsty, livid, and downright unpleasant alter-ego she was caught up in.

Serena growled as she landed on her hands and knees, her sword still clutched in her hand. With crazed fury burning in her eyes, she jerked her head back and stared at her brother.

"Listen to me," Allen stated in a low voice. "I don't know why you did all this—"

Her eyes enlarged in disbelief and then narrowed as she whirled around on her knees, jumped to her feet, and rammed her body into the man's.

In a tangle of arms and legs, they wrestled for dominance. None of the men who watched dared to interfere, Dilandau was _too_ crazy to upset at any time and Allen was too well known to even _try_ and kill without someone setting a bounty on whoever might murder him.

"Ten gold says she wins," one guy whispered to another from a different army.

When Allen flipped Serena heels over head into the dirt, the other man grunted as an acceptance of the bet.

"You don't know _why_?" she growled out, eyes flared with insanity as she pushed her face out of the mud. She twisted her head around to glare with all the malice she had built up within her.

Allen was posed, ready to defend himself for another round but instead Serena slowly picked herself up, stood, and then proceeded to slowly chuckle.

The blonde man, upon hearing the disturbing sound, wished she'd just attack instead.

Her eyes were almost pure red with rage.

"A little girl," she spat out, the corner of her mouth twitching, "_Raped_. Over and over and _over_ again. She would _scream_. She would _cry_. She would _plead_ for help." Dilandau twirled the hilt of the sword around in her hand as she pushed on. "While her _hero,_ her big brother, _slept _with only a _wall _between them."

Allen's eyes enlarged as he felt the blood drain from his face.

"Where were you when I needed _you_!" Serena screamed, finally propelling herself forward, and lashing out viciously with her sword. Her mind was on autopilot as she dueled with her brother. She hadn't practiced for years upon years to have to rely on thinking through the steps. Her body was female, but her skills ranked up with any of the males on the battlefield.

"I was there," Allen answered softly, but then raised his voice in determination. "I was always there for you! You never told me anything!"

It didn't matter to Allen; he was older and better trained. He expertly avoided her attacks and spun her around and flipped her onto the ground within seconds. When she looked up from the mud she had landed in, her eyes screamed for blood.

"If you wanted me to help you, you should have just _told _me!" Allen defended himself; though he was firm, he was calm. Feeding her manic attitude right now would only get someone injured or killed. "I would have been that hero for you," the last part was softer, more personal.

Serena screamed, jumped to her feet, sword back in hand, and tried, again, to disembowel her brother.

The soldiers had made a wide circle around them, confused over the proceedings enough to use it as an excuse to rest, though not for long, from their own swordfights.

"Listen to me, Serena!" Allen pleaded, blocking one of her attacks and sidestepping the next. "You wanted me to be your hero, let me be it now. We can work _together_, to stop this war before anyone else has to die! Let me help you!"

Then came a sound that would have made a dragon's blood freeze. It was so cold and cruel; Allen had never heard anything like it in his life and prayed he would never remember it in his nightmares. It emanated from Serena who had her head down, sword rotating slowly in her hand.

Her men, the soldiers of Zaibach, knew that sound, what it meant, and that they definitely wanted to be elsewhere.

"S-Serena?" Allen questioned, reaching out a hand in the direction of his chuckling little sister.

"You want to be my hero _now_?" the voice was slightly deeper and endlessly darker, "_Brother_? Now when I am on the brink of destroying the entire known world you want to be my _hero_?" she mocked.

"To stop the war I painstaking planned for _years_," she lifted her head from her chest and Allen took a step back in surprise. Her eyes were _scarlet_ and seemed to glow from beneath her bangs. "Why do I need you now, _brother_? I have _Dilandau_."

"He was, and _is, _everything you never had the intestinal fortitude to be. He is cunning," she sliced the sword through the air.

"He is _cold_."

She swung it downward in a killing arc.

"He is without the need of _anyone_. He is _more_ than a _hero_. He is—perfect."

She opened her arms wide as she drew out the last word. A wicked grin on her lips and the fire pit's of the banished souls in her eyes.

Allen, to say the least, was scared. It wasn't the type that would have him screaming like a small child and running from the battle, no, it wasn't that childish. This fear was one that was a sad fear. The fear when one realized the monster under the bed was someone you loved being cruel and the only way to make the monster go away was to make sure it never haunted anyone ever again.

He couldn't label it _regret_. If he did so the moment before it happened, he would then have to say he shouldn't have done it. It had to be done, the fear was of pain and letting her down again. Serena wanted him to be a hero and to make that happen she became the villain of her own story.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as she lunged at him. Faster than she planned for, Allen knocked the sword from her hand, grabbed her wrist, and twisted her body around until their chests were pressed together. She cringed as he tightened his grasp, his free hand clutching the handle of his sword as her free hand was trapped between them.

Serena growled and howled in frustration as her attempts to escape his vice like grip proved futile.

Desperate to find a shred of someone or some_thing_ that might be able to be redeemed, Allen searched the bright scarlet and narrowed eyes. He wanted to find something that could give him hope for her recovery.

Instead, Dilandau cocked her head back and spat on Allen's face in defiance.

Well, that was just _rude_.

"I'm sorry," Allen repeated as he tightened his hold on her with one arm and with the other, he reached behind his back and lifted his tunic to retrieve the knife he kept there.

"You _will_ be," she hissed.

Drawing her as tight as he could into a one-armed embrace, Dilandau growled in disgust and then his face went stock still. Her mouth dropped open, making an 'o' of surprise. Wide eyes tried to turn to look at Allen's face, but his grip wouldn't allow her to move.

He pushed the knife further into her back as sticky, warm blood coated his hand.

This is what had to be done, he assured himself deep inside. Dilandau and Princess Serena needed to be taken down in order to shift the power struggle into peace.

She choked for air. His eyes watered but he would _not_ cry. He had chosen and though it wasn't easy—it was what had to be done.

As her body sagged against his, Allen eased his hold, and gingerly guided her to her knees.

Her eyes were bright blue again and full of disbelief. She tried to speak but only a weak, gasping breath escaped before her face eased into a calmer expression. Slumping forward, she moved no more.

Allen clenched his jaw, setting it, and smacking the brotherly side of him back into the dark corner it had crawled out of earlier. This was bigger. This was more. Setting his expression from a stone cold commanding soldier to that of a war _prince_, he spoke with the authority befitting royalty who had finally _had enough_.

Amazingly, it also sounded like a reprimanding teacher when she was fed up with a bunch of misbehaving brats.

"_Listen _to me," Allen hissed, rolling his shoulders back, to make his stature _that_ much more intimidating. "If you are of Zaibach, then I _command_ you to throw down your weapons, and put yourself on bended knee _immediately._"

One of the older officers pushed his way past the men, who stood in disbelief at the fierce Dilandau's demise and slack jawed from Allen's incredulous demand, to the front and pointed a stubby finger in Allen's face.

"Ye took down 're General Knight, doesn't let ye the authority to _command_ us!" The old warrior drew his sword.

Allen's cold blue eyes narrowed and even if the man stood ten feet tall, the condescension so clearly shown in the blonde's expression would have made the man feel like a bug—a bug to be squashed.

"I don't speak to you as your _conqueror_," Allen corrected, "but as your _prince_."

The old man took a step back, eyes wide at first, but then narrowed into thin slits.

"Who says?"

A wicked smirk, one that echoed faintly of Dilandau's, crossed the blonde man's features. With a slight nod down to the body doubled over at his feet he smartly said, "_She_ did."

The crowd began to murmur amongst themselves. A few recited the times Dilandau—or was it Princess Serena?—well whichever it was, the heir to the throne _had_ mentioned more than a few times in her/his screaming that the one she/he was fighting was indeed a brother.

A lower ranking man, bleeding heavily from his left shoulder limped forward toward Allen, gave the man a firm, calculating look before dropping down to his knees and lowering his head to the ground.

"My liege."

Hesitantly, others began to follow suit. Starting at the lowly and rising through the ranks of the soldiers until no one was left but the old man who threw down his sword at the feet of his prince and admit to his better.

Inside, Allen exhaled a mental breath.

On the outside he glared at his men.

"See to it our entire force understands that this—mindless slaughter is _finished_."

* * *

Just as the knight had promised, the horse quickly returned to its home and hay.

Ana didn't waste time to dismount as a lady should, but threw her other leg over the saddle and leapt off. Hitting the ground in a run, she grabbed the first person she saw by their collar and demanded to know where Hitomi's tent was located.

The befuddled man stammered out an answer and pointed his hand to a tent that had a cranky old guard outside of it. It didn't matter to the woman; she released the other guy and stormed in the direction of the tent. If the old man wouldn't let her through, she'd punch him in his bulbous nose, poke him in the eyes, and box his ears.

When she demanded entrance into the tent where Hitomi laid, the old guard tried to stop her, but it did no use. A few of the people within the tent poked their heads out to see what the commotion was only to be threatened as a whole by the impatient woman.

"If you don't let me in _right now_, the Queen and the heir will die and so will _you_ once King Van hears about it!" she growled, doing a very effective imitation of a mother bear denied her cub.

The group of medical personnel divided like water and oil to let her pass.

It didn't take long for Ana to assess the situation. Her sister's swollen stomach was covered by a thin sheet, her legs bent and spread, while a few panicking nurses tried to figure out the next course of action. There was one younger servant who sponged off the sweat from Hitomi's brow and chest. Her cheeks heavily blushed while the rest of her body seemed sickly pale, _this_, Ana knew, wasn't the best of conditions.

"Are you telling me that _none_ of you have ever birthed a child?" Ana asked, incredulously.

"I've never been on _this_ side of it!" one old woman exclaimed.

After securing her tresses in a spare kerchief, Ana situated herself in front of Hitomi's spread legs and lifted the sheet that protected whatever modesty any one thought a woman in labor might care about. Upon a thorough inspection of the progress, the redhead rolled her eyes, and bit back a few choice words.

"Are you all _completely_ useless? Her water hasn't even broken!"

Muttering about the incompetence of the medical staff, she went about doing what she trained to do before running off in the name of love. She had been a midwife's apprentice and aided in several births before becoming queen.

Those who had been in the war the longest recognized the fiery red hair of the foreign Queen and blindly followed the orders she barked out at them. Ana had all but physically removed a few of the staff when she dubbed them incompetent.

"Hitomi?" Ana's demanding voice lost its edge as she spoke to her sister.

"W-who are..?" Hitomi squirmed and groaned as the baby decided to do some rather interesting acrobatics in her lower stomach.

"It's Queen Mena," the red head watched as one green eye cracked open to study her. "But, you know me as Ana."

Both of Hitomi's eyes flew open and her head snapped up, mouth slightly open in shock.

"_Ana_?" The blonde's mind whirled from the new physical experience so the added stress of her long lost little sister cropping up in the middle of a bloody battlefield _and_ acting as a midwife had spots forming in her vision.

Ana held up her hands and gave a guilty grin.

"I promise, when this is all over, we will talk and I'll explain everything but for now, I'm going to have to explain what I'm about to do..."

* * *

Princess Eries couldn't believe her series of unhappy events. First, she was dragged into battle, then she was kidnapped right under her guards' noses—which they would hear about with a few spotted, nasty words— and now she was lugging a dead weight through the woods going only the heavens _knew_ where.

After Ana had left, the knight, Armand, had promptly passed out.

_Well_, Eries thought, a blush coming upon her cheeks, _not _so_ promptly_.

Whoever this man was beneath his title and inches of bandages, had to be a playboy or snake by nature. She had, in her opinion, kindly maneuvered his head onto her lap to make him more comfortable. Not having practiced medicine the way her sisters had, Eries knew little to nothing about how to help him.

"What is your name?" she questioned to satisfy the morbid thought of having to bury this soldier. If he died, he would need a grave marker. _That_ was logical, not very optimistic, but logical nevertheless.

"Sir Armand DeCri," he answered softly, "of Fanelia."

His blue eyes were glazed over with exhaustion, but something in them bit her conscience. Eries had a gut feeling he should not fall asleep or at least not yet. She knew sometimes, when people went to sleep while they were badly hurt, they never woke up.

"You are?" he whispered.

"You already know," she replied, a bit sharp. "You know I'm the princess of Asturia."

Armand gave a wistful smile, his face tilting away from her slightly, "I was wrong about that."

If her foot hadn't fallen asleep with this stone-headed male on her lap, she would have stood up, and let the fool die alone! She felt annoyance and wounded pride flare up her cheeks. As she opened her mouth to put this _knight_ in his place; he gave the final blow to her pride.

"You must be from the heavens," his voice was growing fainter. "Only someone from the heavens would have the sun for a halo, and still outshine it."

Armand went limp as his mind and body finally won the battle with his stubborn will and forced him into a deep sleep.

Eries, for her part, felt the anger turn to confusion then morph into butterflies of flattery, causing her face to turn a pink hue. She blinked quickly, her cool and regal mask slipping slightly with the unexpected words.

The man was probably trying to butter her up in order for him not to be left in the woods! His little chat with Queen Mena, Ana—whoever she was today! Was proof he had an acid tongue as well as a bit of sweet tooth.

_He probably lost too much blood— _the thought made her eyes widen. Quickly, she studied the man's bandages and to her dismay, the red speckles were growing into red dots and blotches. He was still bleeding!

What type of moron would be on death's door and dare to spit in the reaper's face!

That is when she struggled to her feet, had an even larger struggle to get him to his feet, draped his arms across either shoulder, his chest to her back, and started off in the general direction the horse had headed, the knight's lower legs dragging in the dirt.

She had been a tomboy in her early teens and joined in many horseback sporting games. Having learned to track a fox through the woods, Eries knew following a galloping horse through a forest would be easy to do.

Her passenger groaned in his sleep and she shifted him into a better position for her to carry.

Never, _never_ had she pictured in her most horrible nightmares that she, a _princess_, would be carrying a knight, an _enemy's_ knight, through the woods and back to the _enemy's_ camp nonetheless!

_War really does make one crazy_, she thought bitterly and trudged on.


	60. Short Comings

**Chapter 60**

* * *

The shouts of assurance from those of the Fanelian army feel upon deaf ears as their King was nowhere near the sight of the wrecked guymelef. With a weak and bloody body Van was carried on unsteady feet as far as Folken could manage.

The smoke was thick enough to suffocate them if they had stayed too close.

When Van had delivered the final blow to the face of Escaflowne, Folken had barely been able to escape alive. The following explosion sent the young king flying into the air and smacking soundly on the trees surrounding the clearing.

From the wreckage Folken climbed and stumbled over to his brother. He was bruised, bleeding, and unconscious but nothing time, bandages, and rest couldn't heal.

The blue haired man smiled faintly at his brother's uncanny luck. The boy would live while Folken could all but see death brushing her fingertips on the back of his neck. It had always been known to him that he wouldn't survive long after this war. Black wings were a tell-all sign to an Atlantian descendant.

From somewhere deep within, the man had shouldered his brother when he heard the yells of men drawing near. Not knowing whether they friend or foe, Folken didn't want to wait until they made it to the clearing to have to fight them off if they weren't from Fanelia.

He grunted and sagged against one of the nearby trees. They would soon see that there were no bodies and if they had half a brain, would fan out in search for their missing King. Though the day had only started, there was blackness edging in around the corners of the older man's vision as dark spots exploded in front of his eyes.

Folken closed his eyes and as gently as he could, let Van's body slide down to the ground next the tree he was against. There was a steadily growing puddle of blood from the blue haired man's deep wound. He gave his brother, his dear and beloved baby brother, one more glance before hefting himself off the tree and lurching deeper into the woods.

His good hand covered the mortal gash on his lower right torso where it was quickly coated with blood coming out almost black. What little strength he had possessed finally abandoned him as his knees buckled under his weight.

Only after his body fell forward did he lean his head back to stare at the smoky blue sky far above him. All of this—betrayal, chaos, blood, war—he couldn't remember why he'd started it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he did know, but it was so distant and miniscule. As his thoughts slowed, Folken couldn't help but smile at the sad fate of it all.

When the princess had approached Stratego, wanting to pave a bloody road of revolution, he had accepted, believing, foolishly, she was right. Fate was only something people blamed or blessed for their own choices.

Swallowing thickly, the fallen Prince saw, at last, how his choices led him down the path he had fought so passionately to avoid. Fate had nothing to do with life. Fate was a phantom, a bogey man, or a god of virtue. Man would always and forever be ruled by their own ideals and wills and when something went wrong or went unexpectedly right, they would say it was all _fate_.

It was a pity; he thought as the world darkened in his eyes, that he would never be able to share this hard learned lesson with anyone else.

* * *

Allen had been more at ease facing a pack of starving, ferociously over-sized wolves than he did standing before the leaders of Zaibach. Although, he thought they were certainly _looking_ at him like hungry wolves would when they spotted a lone, little lamb in the middle of a field.

Even _if_ he had been groomed for a few years as a prince, there was no way that the upgrade from a knight to prince was easy for the man.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he shut down his fear, and steeled himself for what was about to happen.

"I am Allen Schezar-Donkirk, _former_ member of the Knight Caeli of Asturia and _current_ Prince of Zaibach." The line hung in the air like recalling a debt from the deceased at their funeral.

The seven men stared back at him, questioning.

"You killed Dilandau Albatou, the General Knight," one man stated firmly. "Who also turned out to be our Princess Serena Schezar-Donkirk."

"I—_decommissioned_ Serena, yes."

"And after all these years, you decided to come running back, _kill_ the only heir to the throne, and then _stop_ the war—and we are supposed to let you claim the same crown you abandoned years ago?" one man, in his late thirties, remarked snidely.

If he thought Allen would be intimidated by _him_, then the stupid man must have forgotten he had to dealt with three princesses on a daily basis for a good portion of his life. If one could survive so many shopping trips, broken hearted crushes, and impromptu hair-dos that they begged him into, he could take on just one _man_.

"_You_," Allen punctuated this word but placing both hands on the wobbly table and leaning forward in a predatory fashion, "have no _real_ say over what I can or cannot claim. _I_ am written into law; _you_ are not the law, _I_ am."

The men, again, studied Allen before volleying their stares around to each other and then one of the oldest members just shrugged and sighed.

"Well, we've already been beaten down, what's the worse he could do?"

The younger man bristled, "B-but what it if he just runs away again! This isn't a job you can just pick and chose to do!"

"Are you going to challenge him to a fight?" another man scoffed. "He's got us dead to rights. The princess claimed him as her family and the men are dead-ass tired. _I_ am tired. I just want this all to be over and done with."

There was a universal agreement among the men as they grunted and nodded.

"So I will not have any intelligent or military opposition to my claim?" Allen questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Anything would be a marked improvement over a cross-dressing child."

The blonde man pinched his mouth into a thin line at the remark and other than the harsh comment; he was surprised that usurping the throne was so—_easy_.

"I will need to write to both Fanelia and Asturia to announce our surrender, and also, I will need a decent military dress uniform to deliver the messages."

"I don't think we have anyone your size except—"one man started looking down the table to the youngest member who was stewing like a spoiled child denied dessert; the man didn't seem to notice the stares weighing on him.

Slowly, he brought his face up and then, worriedly, darted his eyes around the table.

"What? What are you all looking at?"

Allen crossed his arms and smirked, "Ready to be the first to serve your new Prince?"

* * *

Eries was having a record breaking day of shredded nerves and thinly veiled murderous rage toward men and it was only eleven or so in the morning. The princess wanted a warm bath, new set of clothes, and a deep, soft bed to fall asleep in for the rest of the moon cycle. What she got was rudely manhandled and thrown into a threadbare tent that was large enough to stalk five paces in before having to turn around.

She wasn't the complete cold composed woman she usually exuded at times of stress; instead she was feeling rather volatile. When the princess had made it to the outskirts of the encampment, she was met with mere boys armed with swords who gave squeaks of protest to her entering.

A deep frown etched into her lips as she studied them. As gently as she could manage, she lowered the injured knight to the ground, and watched as their eyes flared with shock.

"I have just _dragged_ one of your men back to you and you have the _audacity_ to try and _threaten_ me?" her voice was sarcastic snake with a frigid bite.

So they decided to put her in a 'holding' tent with a cranky old woman and the injured knight as some sort of compromise. She was allowed into the camp and now couldn't leave.

No matter what, Eries was fairly sure her generals _must_ have noticed her absence by now and were probably wetting their armor trying to find her.

Instead of being allowed to ease the fears of her army by being allowed back to her people or even writing a _note_ for them, she was stuck in a moldy, tattered tent with a badly injured man and a rather cranky old woman.

Pausing in her furious pacing, the blonde woman turned her attention to the freshly wrapped soldier who was glaring, rather murderously, at the old woman who was tapping her thick wooden cane on the ground. His lips were pinched so tightly together they had turned white while causing his cheeks to deepen to a red hue.

Armand was thankful to not be moving (or being _dragged_), but still wished for something softer than hay to lie on.

He was a wounded warrior and therefore deserved the best of comfort, which, to him meant his head in a beautiful woman's lap with several others attending to his hurts and pains. Instead, what he got was a lump of hay covered by an unwashed horse blanket and a steely old biddy who whacked him on the stomach when he tried to move or say anything.

"Stay put!" she hissed, "you ain't goin' to ruin _my_ reputation! I know the likes of _you_, you woman-charmer, you!"

Why, he wondered to whoever might be listening, couldn't he have stayed unconscious?

His throat was dry and itchy from thirst, but his sarcastic acid was still wetting his tongue enough to spit out at the old woman.

"Even if I could stomach such a notion, the only thing I could do for your reputation is _improve_ it."

"You makin' a pass at me!" She glared and jumped to her feet. "Don' you even _try_!"

Closing his blue eyes, Armand counted to ten and wondered if he had the energy to tie up the delusional granny with some of his old bandages that were still lying around.

"_Madam_," the man hissed, "I _assure_ yo—"

_WHAMP_!

Stars flared before Armand's eyes after her cane struck him in the stomach.

"Stop tryin' to seduce me, you stallion!"

"Leave him be!" Eries commanded grabbing the other end of the cane as the ancient pest waved it above her short head threateningly.

Not one to lose her honor, the woman proved to be a bit more agile than her hunched over body and sparsely gray-haired head lead people to believe. She hopped onto one foot and lashed out quickly with the other, intent on hitting Eries in her gut.

Instead, the woman lost her balance, pitched forward and landed, face first in Armand's sore stomach.

He whimpered and the biddy shoved off of him using her balled up fists to hit him anywhere she could reach while declaring him a rascal and accusing him of wanting her virtue.

Eries sighed, grabbed the woman by the collar of her dress, and hauled her off of the knight who was tearing up with renewed flashes of pain.

Once the old lady had scampered into a corner, glaring at the two younger people, the blonde princess tilted her head up slightly to give her an air of authority. Eries turned; cane over one shoulder while the hand holding it drummed its wood lazily.

"_You_ will stay over _there_."

"You just want him to take what makes me pure!"

Armand sucked in a breath to let her know _exactly_ what _didn't_ make her pure, but with the sound, Eries redirected her eyes and the man wisely kept quiet.

"No indeed, my dear lady," Eries near purred, focusing back on the female. "I simply am going to stand guard for you, so he won't take advantage of you if you were to grow tired and fall asleep."

The old lady rolled this logic around in her head before giving a curt nod.

"Sees to it he don't cross over the middle of the tent then."

Eries bowed slightly, a sickly amused smile stapled on her face. "As you wish."

The princess sat down, next to the knight with the cane resting across her lap. Her face turned to the old lady who started to try and stomp the crickets, announcing they were actually Vampire overlords come to drink her virgin blood.

Armand rolled his eyes, thankful the bugs would feel the wrath instead of himself.

"I can't believe it," Eries spoke quietly, glancing from the woman to the injured man.

"She's crazy!" Armand accused harshly. "That isn't _so_ hard to under—"

"No, not that. I can't believe your country was actually _winning_ the war."

Coughing lightly, as if it could somehow cover the embarrassment the old woman was causing his country, Armand followed up her observation with a, "Yes, well."

"I do not know _why_ she was put in charge of your recovery. She doesn't seem like much of a caregiver."

"Perhaps she is meant to encourage the sick to die?" Armand offered with wounded, lying down shrug.

Casting him a stern look, she rolled her eyes. "Indeed."

"Regardless, I must say the scenery has improved greatly," he smiled weakly with a dangerous, flirtatious glint in his tired blue eyes.

Eries blushed and _whamped_ him in the stomach with the cane.

* * *

The emotions were clearly mixed upon finding the Fanelian king.

There was surge of pride, mixed with extreme relief as the haphazard search-and-rescue team rummaged around the scorched remains of Escaflowne and the surrounding area of her crash site only to find their leader several yards away. He was, at first, unconscious, but none the worse for wear. Well, not as bad as they expected to _find_ after a person went through a bloody battle and rather devastating explosion.

As the black-haired king was aided to his feet, a strong fear and apprehension took hold of some of the older, more superstitious men. Even if their liege wasn't directly in the explosion, there were subtle clues that there _had_ been a fight of sorts between someone with a sword and the guymelef. Even as Van was led away from the site, back in the direction of the camp and medical supplies, the older men stayed behind.

In silence they observed the location.

Blood and fire were begging to tell those who noticed them of a great secret that had been created there, but the ash and smoke silenced the former with their ghostly fingers. _Something_ had happened, something important and somehow, the king had survived. Trees had been splintered, the ground left black and scorched but the mortal _man_ had pulled through.

As one man glanced to the next, they nodded in silent agreement.

This was the type of unexplained event that left future generations to only imagine what had happened. Over time, Van would be more than a Draconian, more than a _king_ and become a legend. He would attain a level of heroism and mysticism others would desperately dedicate themselves to equaling or surpassing. _Van_ would be a name fathers would name their sons in hopes they would live up to the name's claim of greatness.

Yes, one day this would be a lore spun into an epic adventure of dynamic and death defying proportions, but for now, it was a quiet mystery and Van was just a man— an injured man who needed assistance from his loyal soldiers in order to return to the Fanelian campsite for treatment.


	61. Coming Back

**Chapter 61**

* * *

"I'm confused," a red-head man confessed to another. "I thought we were supposed to be at war."

"We are," the other replied with a firm nod of his head.

"So, uh, why ain't we fightin' nobody?" red asked, scratching his head in confusion.

"We _are_, don'tcha keep up with what's goin' on?"

Red's eyebrows drew together in the middle of his forehead and the other man sighed deeply at his friend's blatant stupidity.

"We started by goin' to war _against_ Asturia, right?" he spoke slowly, as if explaining the fundamentals of how Gaea was created to a four-year-old.

Wide eyed, Red nodded in agreement. "So we're fightin' Asturia?"

"_No_, no we ain't fightin' them anymore."

"But you just said—"

"We _started_ by fightin' them, and then allied with Zaibach." He made sure his friend was listening closely before pressing on. "The way I saw it, after Asturia attacked _us_, Zaibach started to fight Asturia. I think Zaibach got really offended when Asturia started to blow that big island outta the sky"

"So—if they were Fanelian allies, they _woulda_ been fightin' against the people we were fightin' against."

"But that's the weird thing; remember when guymelefs started to fall from that big island? They were coming down like friggin' snowflakes! When they landed, Escaflowne and a Zaibachian guymelef started to go at it! So I think our alliance with Zaibach was shot to the pits, and so we started to fight them."

Red's eyes grew in disbelief. "We took _both_ of the largest powers on the face of this planet on? How come we ain't dead? Or at least tryin' to high-tail it into hidin'?"

An Asturian soldier walked by them, glaring, but did nothing more as he trudged on.

The men returned the look, and Red added the childish maneuver of sticking out his tongue.

"No, we didn't take them on. Ain't you ever heard of that saying, 'any enemy of my enemy is my friend'?" Upon receiving the blank look, the wiser of the men rolled his eyes. "Never mind, but we didn't fight both."

"So who _did_ we fight?"

"Zaibach. I guess we all figured if the king was going to attack them and _not_ Asturia, then _we_ better start fighting the same lot." The man snorted disdainfully. "Of course that was before that blonde haired pixie of a pirate killed the leader of Zaibach. He told everyone to stop fightin' or some stuff. Since the people we were fighting stopped, we stopped."

"And here we sit?" red pondered.

"And here we sit."

The red-haired man was silent for a while, watching as the strange mix of Fanelian and Asturian soldiers disarmed and tied up a handful of Zaibachian fighters.

"Well," he started with a shrug, "Well, _damn_."

* * *

"What do you _mean_ she is _gone_!" bellowed a rather round general. The poor underling shook like a leaf in a wind storm as the older man sneered down at him.

"I mean she isn't in her tent, sir."

The general's eyes flared wide with fury as he growled out, "_I_ _know_ what _gone_ means you imbecile! I want to know _where_ she is! Who were her guards? I want them here _now_!"

Quickly, the terrified man nodded and left the enraged officer. Colonel Lucke, the general's second-in-command, was quite used to the grumpy man's outbursts and tantrums. He sighed and shook his head.

"Could it be that the Princess has been stolen?"

"She was being watched! No one could go in or out of that tent without _someone _noticing! We _have_ to find her!" The man's face was the shade of the setting sun.

Raising an eyebrow, the younger man decided to do the one thing the old soldier refused to, he went to solve the mystery not just look for someone to scream at and blame.

Sure enough, the nervous man who was the unfortunate soul to report the sheer _lack_ of royalty in the camp was standing in front of two large men. The little guy was trying his hardest to be tough, with his balled fists on either side of his hips, leaning forward, and shouting at them.

The supposed-to-be-intimidated men stared down at the annoyance with boredom etched into their features.

"Excuse me; are you two the guards who were in charge of watching Princess Eries' tent?" Colonel Lucke questioned with strained politeness.

He hadn't slept in two days, hadn't eaten anything he would qualify as tasty, and _really_ had to pee. The sooner all this was cleaned up and Eries tucked back neatly into her tent, the sooner he could take care of all those personal pesky problems.

Upon seeing the colonel, all three snapped to attention as their faces paled slightly. It was almost unheard of for Lucke to leave his superior's side, but when he did there was usually pain and promises of demotion involved.

With a mischievous grin, the officer crossed his arms, tilted his head to the side, and quirked an eyebrow as he commanded in a dangerously pleasant tone, "Start explaining, soldiers."

By the end of the poorly structured and stuttered tale, the colonel had the bridge of his nose pinched between a finger and thumb, his chin pressed into his chest plate as he muttered incomprehensible curses at the world.

"Let me see if I understand this to its full, though shallow, depths," Lucke sighed out in frustration. "Princess Eries went into her tent with instructions that _no one_ was to enter. _Then_ you, her _guards_, allowed someone—a female, when we traveled with _no_ _other_ females besides the Princess—to enter. Something her majesty had _just _commanded for you _not_ to do?"

At the end of his words, the man shot the two sentinels with a tired, exasperated glare.

The younger man scratched the side of his face, vying for time, before finally nodding slowly.

"I _told_ him not, too!" the older man tattled, which earned him flat stare from the officer and his foot being stomped on by his fellow guard.

The two then exchanged heated, threatening looks, and Locke locked his jaw and slowly counted back from ten to regain control over his temper.

"What about later? Didn't you think it odd the servant _girl_ never came back _out_ after being in the tent for a great length of time?" His eye ticked, he _really _wanted to sleep, eat, and relieve himself. It was easier to herd cats than it would be to get the idiots before him to understand the sheer thoughtlessness of their actions.

"I _did_ see her leave!" the younger one defended. "I saw her headin' off into the woods a few minutes later."

Lucke shot to his full height, eye ticking almost rhythmically at this new information. "You said you didn't know she left!"

"No, I said I didn't know when the _princess_ left," the lookout corrected.

Ready to pull out his hair, the colonel leaned into the man, using his superior height to intimidate the security. "And how did you _think_ she left?"

Swallowing hard, he stuttered out, "The back flap of the tent?"

Groaning, Lucke rocked back on his heels, ground the balls of his hands into his closed eyes. "You _idiot_, since _when_ has there _ever_ been a tent with a _back door_? If there _was_ don't you _think_ we would have placed soldiers there as _well_?"

The two guilty guards and the man, who had originally given the general and colonel the bad news, smartly remained silent.

Thrusting his balled fists straight by his side, the sleep deprived officer growled out, "At _least_ tell me you know which _way_ she went!"

* * *

Even after months of bloodied battlefields, relentless oppression to and against their opposition, and facing the broad-spectrum of dismal conditions the life on the road of war had plagued them with, there was still one thing, one _sound_ the men of the Fanelian army feared to hear: the wrathful screaming of a woman.

Many of the younger men stared toward the canvassed flaps of the tent with slight fear in their eyes. Too fresh were the memories of mothers who embodied the very accurate saying: if mama isn't happy, hide.

The older males made themselves busy by attending to the hurt, horses, and anything else that was _not_ where the pained cries were emanating from.

Inside the tent, Hitomi clenched her teeth so hard she was sure they would crack under the pressure. Nothing _ever_ prepared her for _this_. In her brief moments between contractions, when she could think somewhat coherently, she had panted out the question how women would willingly _choose_ to have more than one child.

Ana smiled at the remark and with a reassuring voice said, "You'd be surprised how quickly you forget the pain once you have the baby in your arms."

Another vicious contraction ripped through the blonde as she bit out, "Not. Likely."

Ignoring her sister's doubt of siblings for the young heir, Ana went back to coaching Hitomi to breathe as she monitored the progress of the birth.

* * *

Armand's eyebrow ticked as he could hear the cries of the queen, both the screams and soft mewlings between them. For some unknown reason, the medical tents, for allies and enemies captured, where situated beside each other. Sure, there were the make-shift guards and the crazy grandma (who had thankfully fallen asleep on a pile of dirty blankets) to contend with, but the layout was poorly conceived.

Cracking open a blue eye, he watched as an impossible amount of apprehension and anxiety covered the blonde princess's face as she turned toward the wall closest to where the sounds where emanating. It was apparent she was not meant to be on the battlefield—or in a mid-wife's broom closet.

"This is your first time hearing such things?" he questioned lightly, though amused.

Her blue eyes narrowed sharply as she turned to face him but quickly widened again as Hitomi released a low, pained groan. She gave him a lovely view of her profile as her grip on the cane tightened.

"They _might_ have forgotten to introduce me to the—_joys_ of birth. I think I picked up a second language instead of choosing to delve into that particular mystery." Swallowing hard, she took a calming breath, and turned her attention to the knight once again. "My sisters were always the more medically and motherly minded. I had no wish for such things."

"_Had_?" Armand's eyebrow rose slightly. "Did something change your mind?"

Eries glanced to the side before she closed her eyes and smoothly, though despondently answered.

"After I told my father I never wished to marry, he made a proclamation that I was never to inherit the throne. No husband, no heirs. But then—"

Hitomi rudely interrupted them again by one of her almost cat like yowls.

"The war happened," he finished for her once the noisy Queen had lowered her volume again.

"Yes, the war happened," she spat out. "My younger sister, who was to inherit the throne, was killed. Chid, my nephew and the only other possible heir to the Austurian throne, was _killed_. My father—he _is_ the king after all and therefore revoked his declaration."

Trying to measure his reaction to her awaited fate, she found nothing but both of his eyebrows quirked up and a thin line of indifference on his face. After a moment, the knight let out a deep sigh.

"Such a pity to be dragged back into your duty instead of being able to _run away_," Armand pointed out objectively.

The man had suffered severe brain damage or he was _about_ to, the blonde haired woman wasn't sure which.

"What?" she hissed out, the wails of the laboring royalty next door completely forgotten.

Stubborn pride demanded for him to be at eye level with the woman he was about to be brutally honest toward. With a great deal of effort and a few grunts, the injured knight managed to pull himself into a sitting position. It was taxing, but it would be worth it.

Even if he looked like the looser in a vicious raccoon brawl, he would _refuse_ to be looked down at by the princess. She was pleasant, but Armand hadn't spent his whole life around royalty for nothing. If anything, he knew the brats of kings and queens needed to be ferociously reminded that they were, first and foremost, _servants_ to their countries.

"Your escape route was cut off, now you have to own up to your position." He was darkly amused by her flaring, incensed blue eyes. "You wanted the benefits without the burden. Even though you were taught and told from birth of your role and responsibilities, you didn't want to serve those who served you."

Eries had _never_ been spoken to in such a manner by some—some _man_. She had been flattered and shown favor since birth! Opening her mouth to retaliate such a ludicrous claim nothing, save an entire speech of curses and insults that no princess should really ever know much less use, came to her mind.

Clenching her fists, the blonde shot to her feet and stormed out of the tent. The guards tried to stop her, but with one dark, dangerous look the men decided one of them should follow her instead of both of them trying to drag her back into the tent.

Armand hunched forward, the pain in his body dulling his senses. He let a small frown form on his swollen lips; something that most people would name a conscience nagged him. Perhaps she didn't deserve so much venom since the petite blonde had done so much for him.

She had hauled him back to camp; stayed with him as they redressed his wounds, and even defended him against the wicked old witch he was sharing the tent with now.

He cringed as he remembered that he was _alone_ with the mentally challenged grandma.

Sighing, Armand never anticipated for the small, aged body to tackle him back down to his make-shift bed.

With a heavy _oomph_, he let shock take over his face as the wrinkled features of the old woman come into view. She was straddling his torso, both hands on his face, and their noses almost touching.

"Finally, my handsome stallion, we are _alone_."

The Queen wasn't the only one who let a pure, unashamed scream of pain rip into the morning air.

* * *

The men followed their King in silence to the encampment. Van regained consciousness only moments after they removed him from the site of Escaflowne's wreckage. Though they asked many questions, he had yet to speak to them for longer than a nod or 'no'. Even though he had been smashed, sliced, and shot at, the man walked on his own and acknowledged none of his bruises or bloodied areas of his body or face.

There were no sounds or screams of a battle being fought, only loud conversations, clanks of work being completed, and constant sound of nature.

Secretly, Van was pleased with the subdued atmosphere. It was only his pride that kept him on his feet. He wouldn't show weakness in front of his men or in front of the once-enemy. Being a strong King was something he tried to do every day and in such a precarious situation, a strong front was needed. The country needed to know their leader was alive and ready to take the next step.

What they _didn't _need to know was how hard it was for him not to give in to the fatigue that nipped at his heels. His stomach ached terribly and he had already deduced several ribs had been cracked if not broken. There were other scrapes and such, but he could worry about those later.

Van's first requirement was to get back to camp and be aware of the situation of his men and the refugees. There was one _other_ person who was fogging up his thoughts of rules and duty.

_Hitomi_.

When he all but dumped her at the feet of one of the nurses, he couldn't even look back. Being a king came _first_, everything else had to be second— and that included being a husband.

_And father_, a voice added innocently. Van frowned and wondered why that voice sounded an awful lot like Armand.

His frown turned into a deep scowl as he had nothing to distract him from the revelations that occurred only hours before.

_"I __**lied**__…_ _Do you really think that one night would be enough?"_

If it hadn't been in front of several other powerful figures, Van was sure his face would have burned with embarrassment from her given confession.

_"…Armand knew I was pregnant first and pushed you to think you were the father…"_

Van clenched his free hand into a fist and stiffened his jaw at the very likelihood her accusations could be true. It was a lesson hard learned over many generations of royalty that sometimes guards became a bit _too_ friendly with their wards.

_"…he is the father! We are lovers!"_

The words stopped him in his tracks as his heart constricted painfully in his chest. Screwing his eyes shut tightly, the King forced himself to refocus. This isn't what needed to be dealt with at the present moment, what had to be done was for the future of the kingdom.

Pushing himself forward, ignoring the questions of his health from his small posse, the black haired man kept rehearsing possible outcomes of the fallen allegiances and shaky new alliances made.

"_Van!"_

She had sounded so desperate for him then. The world had tilted and was being thrown into the fire pits of the underworld and she—

His eyes flew open wide when he heard a joyous cry from a few hundred yards in front of him.

"King Van! The king has survived!"

* * *

Oblivious the vocal celebration happening outside of the tent, another announcement of royalty was being made.

"It's a boy!" Ana pronounced happily, quickly bundling the child up in a clean towel after doing all the necessary cuts and cleaning.

"Is—is he healthy?"

As if on cue, the small child wailed and the two women shared a smile. Ana carefully placed the wrapped bundle in his mother's arms and returned to taking care of the after birth requirements.

_Finally, _Hitomi thought as the small, round faced boy hushed as his mother gently poked the end of her finger into his mouth to pacify him. She didn't grow up around Ana without learning a few tricks of babies and children.

He was of a good weight, not chubby and, thankfully, not overly thin. Long fingers, a lick of silver hair, and sleepy hazel eyes were all being memorized by the exhausted woman. The young prince, she could tell, would look like his father.

A pain struck deep in her heart through all the joy as she thought of Van. Van who was out in the middle of the fray with the belief this tiny boy wasn't _his_. That she had _lied_. Okay, so she _had_ lied, but not about what he thought she lied about. She lied about lying to him.

Her head was foggy from pain, exhausted from birth, and now swimming in emotion. Try as she might, she finally gave in to the fatigue, and allowed her head to lull to the side for all of a second but it was enough to catch the attention of one of the nurses.

"Why don't you let us tend to him, your majesty, while you rest?" The nurse, an older woman, gently pried the prince from Hitomi's arms.

Hitomi let her head fall back against the pillows. Something wasn't right. This wasn't right. She put one shaking hand to her forehead and fear struck her heart. She didn't have any other births to compare this to but there was something wrong with her body.

She just _knew_ it.

"Ah—Ana," Hitomi weakly breathed out.

"One moment, Hitomi. I would rather not have you in any more pain for longer than you have to be." She glanced up, "I'm sure you'd agr—"

Ana's eyes widened in horror, "Hitomi? _Hitomi!" _

The blonde woman didn't respond.


	62. A New Light

**Chapter 62**

* * *

Eries' head snapped up at the sound of the men's happy chatter as they passed her. Blinking back her anger, the more analytical part of her took over. There were only a handful of things that could motivate a troop of battle weary men to near tears of joy.

So unless there was a wagon full of busty barmaids coming unto the base, she saw no call for all the males to be losing their minds to elation. Biting the inside of her cheek, warring reason against curiosity, she finally sighed and followed the footsteps of the soldiers.

They were grouping around something or someone, but Eries was too short to see. Curiosity demanded to be satiated before she would be pleased; the woman used the advantage of having a slight frame to navigate toward the center of the gathering.

When she finally made it to the inner edge of the throng, blue eyes opened wide as they landed on the form of the Fanelian leader. Her mouth opened slightly in surprise, not expecting to see the King _alive_ and giving the impression of being a rogue rather than royalty.

Through the excited rumble of the men relaying the war was over since Zaibach had declared its surrender, he heard a distinct feminine gasp. Van's cinnamon colored iris settled on the princess who was standing out with her clean, bright blue clothing, and blonde hair, and after a flitting look of confusion, he stood to his full height.

With the sudden shift of his personality from relaxed to authoritative, the men put themselves on alert and quieted down, waiting for his orders.

"Princess," Van acknowledged with a slight nod.

"King Van," Eries returned politely. The Fanelian men shifted away from the blue clad princess, as if she was repugnant or diseased. "I am glad to see you are—well."

Van gave a slow nod in acknowledgement.

"What do you do here, Princess?"

Eries desperately wanted to shift her weight from foot to foot, twist her fingers, or bite her lips in nervousness, but refrained. Instead, her icy exterior held firm. She had images of the events of the early morning until now flitting through her thoughts. There was the truth: she was kidnapped, threatened, deserted with a wounded, mouthy, and overly disrespectful knight who she then lugged back to his home country's camp, and then held prisoner.

However, there was something about telling the full truth that was leaving a rather sickening taste in her mouth. Instead, the woman opted for the abridged version of events.

"I had been in the woods when one of your men happened upon Queen Mena and I. She was needed for the birth of the Queen's child, and I aided the man back here where I have been detained ever since."

Van studied her quietly as she spoke. She was tense, wanting to run, but refusing to back down from whatever she thought was going to happen.

Breaking eye contact with the blonde, Van turned his face to the side, and spoke to one of the men.

"Saddle my horse and bring him here," he ordered. "Then see that the Princess is returned to her people."

"Sire?" the man squawked. "Sh-she is a _prisoner_."

Van's eyes narrowed dangerously on the soldier, a silent but noted warning, before turning to make eye contact with the princess once more.

"She is not now, nor ever has been, our enemy. Princess Eries is free to leave whenever she pleases."

Nodding and giving a quick salute, a few of the men scurried off to find where his horse had ended up being housed. A wave of nausea passed over the king, forcing him to sway slightly on his feet. He needed to sit down, eat, and be bandaged before he would be of any further use to anyone.

Shaking his head slightly, as if to push away the aches and pains, Van gave a small bow before continuing his journey to the heart of the camp.

"King Van," Eries called out to him hastily as he passed by her. Rotating on her heel, she faced his back, her hands in balled fists at her side. He stopped, face turned to the side, indicating he was listening. She rolled her shoulders back and with a steel resolve, spoke again.

"I thank you for your consideration, and would like reciprocate your good will."

"There is no—" Van started to object.

"We have doctors, many of them, and your men have been on the field far longer than mine. I only wish to send a team here as a way of thanking you for use of your horse."

A silent war was fought within Van's mind. He could think of half a dozen things that could possibly go wrong with allowing another kingdom's doctors treat his men, most of them being devious and painful. However, they _were_ short handed in the medical realm and Asturia was well known for its breakthrough technology and knowledge in healing.

"Thank you for your consideration, we accept your kind return," Van answered at length.

The edges of Eries' lips twitched, wanting to form a relieved smile, but twitching was all she allowed.

* * *

Allen wanted badly to run his hands through his hair but couldn't. The waist length mane had been tamed into a neatly collected, low tied pony tail. Without his hair flaring around him with every move, he seemed more collected and, to a few who dared to snicker about it, more like a _male_.

He had sent couriers to the Fanelian and Asturian camps, so far, neither of them had returned. Instead of preparing for the upcoming negotiations which in a sad, humbling honest way would be Zaibach diplomatically apologizing for burning, ceasing, or annihilating kingdoms for the past seven or more months, Allen was dealing with those who refused to acknowledge his claim to the throne.

It amazed him. The men had blindly followed a blood thirsty, cross-dressing (though they were unaware) princess into the slaughter, but when a male with political background and no psychotic tendencies took the reins, they were ready to throw up a red flag.

"Wow," Gaddes whistled low as he picked up a fork and silently appraised it, "Shoulda cashed in the knight job a long time ago if this was the alternative!"

Allen, who had been silent, leaned back in one of the high-backed chairs inside the tent, with his eyes closed and arms lightly crossed over his stomach, only cracked open one eye toward his second-in-command.

The _Crusade_ was still safe and anchored a few miles away. The newly re-crowned Prince had called for Gaddes after dismissing the earlier meeting with the generals and other various headaches of rank.

"Did you locate Vione?" Allen questioned, closing his eye again.

"You mean what was _left_ of it?" Gaddess gave a lazy, half-lidded smile. "Sent some guys out to see how far it went and what country it landed in."

Allen bit back a groan.

If the floating, now grounded, island wrecked anything but farms and country side, it was yet another bill Zaibach was going to have to figure out how to pay. He had been in the ruling seat for less than a day and already he faced crises on top of chaos surrounded by skepticism.

"What about that boy you wanted me to take to the ship?" The brunette questioned, trying to get a spoon to stick to the end of his nose. "The one you stabbed?"

The prince stiffened instantly. His throat tightened as he assessed the likelihood someone could have over heard his second-in-command.

"I—would rather that stay between you and I." Allen's voice was low and dark. "There are certain people who would disagree to my aiding the—young man in recovering."

Gaddess' eyebrows rose.

"It was with the venom blade, right?"

The blonde glanced away momentarily before nodding once.

"So you just punctured something and the poison made him pass out, what's the big deal? He could heal here." Allen sucked in a breath and opened his mouth to contend with such a plan but Gaddess held up his hands in surrender. "I'm just _saying_, not doing. You're the boss, if you want little soldier boy to be in the Crusade, to the Crusade he will go."

There was a call for Allen outside the tent and after he answered it, telling the messenger he would soon speak with him, the prince stood and pinned his friend with a steady eye.

"Make sure you put the—boy somewhere secure, no one is to know about him save you, a healer, and me. Understood?"

Gaddess shrugged and waved off the order as if it was a bothersome fly. Even if Allen wished to dance around the true reasons for the strange request of boarding a stranger, the second-in-command was _not_ going to allow his blonde boss the luxury of being elusive forever.

Groaning as he stood up, the man sauntered out of the tent, and to the outskirts of the Zaibach's camp. There waited two horses, a covered wagon, and the blonde boy with badly cropped hair lying in the back of the wagon.

"Well, kiddo, looks like you just got promoted from soldier to sailor!" Gaddess informed the unconscious form with a lop-sided smile before hauling himself into the driver's seat, snapping the reins, and driving the horses toward the Crusade.

* * *

Armand had finally succumbed to the dark temptation that had niggled its way into his brain. It had been quick, and for an injured man, he surprised himself at the efficient knots and tightness of the bandages. He even forced the woman to have a gag in her mouth.

The hurt knight chuckled evilly as he watched the old lady who accused him and then tried to molest him mutter and wiggle around in her bindings. He was able to lure her into trusting him an inch and he took that with both hands and tied her up with his old bandages. It wasn't exactly a respectable thing to do but if he ever wanted to feel safe again, it had to be done.

A frown tugged on his lips as he shifted his eyes over to the tent entrance. The princess had stormed out a few hours ago and had yet to return. Knowing that some of the men could easily have over powered the slight woman, doubt and fear started to nibble on his sun-dried and nearly nonexistent conscience.

If he could convey his thoughts in a less snake-like fashion, he would. The man leaned back, the frown deepening as he bitterly realized that it was the second time in his life that a woman fled his presence into the unknown arms of fate.

First, his wife and now the princess were victims of his acid tongue. Groaning, the knight let his head lull to the side and with nothing else to do to preoccupy his thoughts; he slipped into a fitful sleep.

* * *

"Enter," Van ordered coolly to the guard's announcement of someone wishing an audience with him.

He had been back at the camp less than three hours, but with the strange amount of papers lying around and the influx of soldiers and such coming in, it seemed much longer.

Ana poked her head through the opening the guard made for her when he pulled back a side of the tent's entrance. She swallowed and on nervous feet, slowly crept in, and stood in front of the table Van had claimed as a makeshift desk.

He flicked his eyes to her face for a heartbeat before he grabbed a clean sheet of parchment, dipped his quill, and started to write on it.

"Yes?" he questioned, though not giving her the decency of eye contact.

The timid redhead twisted her fingers in nervousness. It was hard to keep her shame and embarrassment from her body language since the last time the two had been alone in a tent together she had tried, unsuccessfully, to seduce him. Even _if_ she had been under orders of the Princess of Asturia to distract the man, Ana still felt the sickening self-loathing sitting on her stomach.

"I have come with good news," she spoke softly, head bowed, and eyes on the tips of her muddied shoes. She paused, waiting for him to say something but when he remained silent, she sighed and pushed on.

"The good news is that the Queen has delivered a healthy child, a son, just a few hours ago," she announced happily, though still in a shy voice. "Though, I am afraid it took too much from Hitomi."

Van paused, finally proving he was listening. A fear slithered through him, causing him to tense. What if Hitomi had died in child birth? He made it a point not to ask or seek out the queen for the reason he was too busy with matters of state. Things he could have assigned to others but with the blended havoc that led to, stayed through and finally ended the war, he knew no one else could handle the way was able to do.

"She is sleeping, but she is drained."

He let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding at her words. Hitomi was safe and bore a son.

"Is there anything else?" Van's voice betrayed nothing except a flat, political tone he adopted over the years.

Ana glanced up at her brother-in-law, but his head was still bowed as his hand scribbled out words on the paper.

"No, I suppose not," she admitted, wondering at his cold attitude toward the supposedly joyous news.

Sprinkling drying powder across his inked order, he shook it free, made sure the words were dry and legible before her rolled the parchment up.

"Very well," he stated, glanced up, and called for the guard. A man stumbled through the passage way and bowed quickly. The king stood up from his seat, paper in hand, and handed it to the guard. "This is to go to Si—_Prince_ Allen," he instructed the man, handing him the paper.

He was silent as he turned to Ana, and when their eyes finally met, he narrowed his slightly.

"You are to go with the guardsman, from there; Prince Allen will escort you to his ship the _Crusade_."

Blinking in confusion, the displaced queen was only able to chirp out, "Why?"

Van turned, heading back to his work station, but before sitting down, he sighed and stated, "Because your husband, King Coron, is aboard the ship, alive and well."

Thankfully, the soldier caught the woman before she hit the ground in a dead faint.

At the dramatic response, Van merely raised an eyebrow before he began to compose his reply to the Zaibachian surrender.

* * *

The colonel muttered darkly as he left the circle of trees and bushes, nature not willing to wait any longer to be relieved, and sought out the several soldiers he assigned to help him find their missing Princess. Two hours of fruitless searching and idiotic guessing was enough to chew his already frayed nerves into tiny bits of insanity.

Since the unexplainable and _odd_ white flag had been thrown into the air by Zaibach, the men had been slowly coming down from their high of fear and adrenaline. Fanelia was still in question but considering they turned on Zaibach in the middle of the assault and had not pursued Asturia any further, the colonel didn't believe them to be an issue of importance.

"Are we ready?" Locke muttered, massaging his temples with his gloved fingers.

When he looked up, his eyes betrayed his shock as his mouth hung open at the sight before him.

There was the missing princess, the one he had foregone sleep and food to find sitting as pretty as she pleased on the back of a regal steed.

"Colonel," Eries acknowledged before she turned to the small unit of troops. She gave very detailed orders and demanded to know if Zaibach had formally surrendered.

A few of the men bowed, before turning on their heels and spiriting off to do whatever it was she had instructed. Dumbfounded, the officer stumbled to where the horse restlessly nickered and pranced.

"Princess?"

She gave him her attention, a slender blonde eyebrow rose in question.

"How—when—_where_ have you been?" His eyes landed on the horse and then he added, "And why are you on a Fanelian _horse_?"

Eries stared back at him, a blank mask staying firmly on her features. Just as she had done when questioned by King Van, the princess did not want to stir up the hornet's nest again. She had spent the first half of her short trip editing and revising her version of the truth.

She couldn't flat out _lie_ to her subordinates, but she had no desire to have them wanting to defend her either. With an inward sigh, the woman flicked her stare to each man.

"Once it was clear Fanelia wasn't our enemy, I sought King Van out to make preparations for peace negotiations. I—didn't want to alert the generals, so I had a personal escort lead me to the Fanelian camp. The king would not see me return on foot and lent me his finest horse."

The colonel eyed his liege skeptically. She cleared her throat nervously before stating that they would be needed at their camp soon. Not giving the officer another chance to scrutinize her, Eries pressed her heels into the horse's sides and led it in the direction of her army.

* * *

Pain would have been a plausible excuse for her lack of movement or fatigue would have been allowed, but it was neither of those reasons that caused the Queen of Fanelia to remain stock still.

It was the precious and precarious image before her.

She had only blinked back into the world of the conscious moments before and through her hazy, drowsy state she knew she wasn't in the medical tent. No, the soft blankets, the plush pillows, and the thick mat were all clues she had been upgraded in accommodations. From that simple digestion of information a more important fact and concern seared her mind with fear.

Her son!

Jerking up suddenly, the pain that flared from her lower abdomen was intense enough to have her falling back to the mat, breathless. Panting, she turned her head to where the nearest source of light seemed to be, that is when she felt the fear dissipate and awe wrapped her up in its warm embrace.

Leaned back on a colorful array of pillows, with a brightly burning torch less than five feet from where he sat, was Van. Bathed in the warm glow of the fire, her breath hitched in her throat as she saw him gently trace the cheek of the small, sleeping baby he held. There was a stark contrast of the white bandages wrapped around his torso and his deeply tanned skin. The bright blue blanket their son was wrapped up in popped against all the dark and dismal colors surrounding the bundle. Van's head was tilted forward, bangs casting half his face in a deep shadow as the one visible eye flickered with deep oranges and soft reds from the torch.

The look on his face as he studied the small prince was one of awed disbelief. Her heart ruptured with the sheer joy the sight brought her and the overwhelming love she felt toward both of the males.

Not as oblivious to the watcher as she presumed, Van searched the rounded, tiny features of the boy he held protectively in his arms. It had been sheer pandemonium after the carrier from Zaibach brought an official surrender to the camp. When questioned, the man bowed and related that a similar decree had been dispatched to Asturia.

From there, the joyous and boisterous warriors shared the information with the civilians who remained with the army. What erupted from the good news was an impromptu celebration that included make-shift instruments, singing, and general merriment.

Van was able to spare a single smile to the crowd before he had ducked inside his personal tent and called for a healer and scribe. After the healer had dressed his wounds and left, Van only allowed himself an hour or so for sleep before sitting down with the scribe.

The Asturian doctors cautiously made their way to the Fanelian camp around noon, and set aside their personal opinions to take on the desperately needed role of healer. One courier appeared, bowed, and handed the King a message from Asturia's princess. It was a simple statement that she was sending a few wagons to his camp with supplies. She insisted, as if knowing he would protest, that his Queen be kept in best comfort the conditions would permit.

Another wagon, loaded with a thick velvet and canvas pavilion, pillows, thick sleeping mats and every other sort of on-the-road comfort Van had purposefully foregone opting for practicality over prestige. The workers had swiftly assembled everything, arranged the furnishings, and even requested permission from the king to aid in other, smaller matters where they could.

Once he was sure that the tent was secure, with guards placed around the opening and at each corner, Van had gone to the medical tent to retrieve Hitomi. Even with Ana's assurances of her deep sleep being exhaustion and stress, the black haired male was exceedingly vigilant to the way he lifted, carried, and arranged her sleeping form.

Dusk had fallen and soon the camp was lit by torches and bright bonfires. It was only after the food had been rationed out that Van had retired to the pavilion. Once there, the small squeaks of complaint from the tiny boy lying next to his mother in a hastily designed bassinet captured his attention.

Ana had made it her personal mission to track down a make-shift wet nurse while the queen recovered. There were a few healthy women who were among the survivors of Fanel's capital city that had children under a year old. They had proven to be only too happy to aid the young boy in filling his stomach.

Knowing the boy had been placed in the blankets and pillows only a few minutes prior, Van paused, but finally, quietly went to the child and removed him from his nest. Remembering the quick lessons given to him by his wife in Slena, Van made sure to hold the baby just as she had told him. Settling against the pillows in the back corner, the king had to forcefully make himself relax.

Van was acutely aware of Hitomi's waking, the hiss of pain and the short pants. Years of training and months in battle had made him hyper sensitive to his surroundings, including the weight of a stare.

Making sure to keep his face as neutral as possible, Van allowed her to keep observing him.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there cradling the small child, but when the boy started to squeak and then whimper half-hearted cries, Van stood up in one fluid motion.

With the same care that he picked the boy up, he carried him to where Hitomi rested. The queen blinked up at the man owlishly as he waited for her to stretch out her hands for her child. Gingerly, Van placed the boy into his mother's arms then swiftly turned away, in search of his gloves.

Hitomi cooed and smiled down at the fussing baby, while keeping a side long glance on Van.

He tugged his gloves back on, and she sucked in a breath when he turned back to her, eyes devoid of any emotion. It was now or it was going to just be more painful later.

"Van, I need to—"

The king held up one hand, a silent signal for her to stop. She bit her lip, trying to keep the tears from falling.

"Attend to your son," he commanded as he turned to leave. Pushing one side of the tent flap to the side, he paused, bowed his head slightly to her as he spoke softly, "I will return."


	63. Tyr

**Chapter 63**

* * *

Authoress Notes: Yeeeeshhhh, I can't believe that this is the _last chapter_! I also can't believe that it has taken me over six years to complete this beastly thing! What started off as a simple ten minute type out has truly bloomed into something I can say I am proud of writing.

I would like to thank all the patient readers, new and old, for your encouragement throughout the years. My life's trials and tribulations interfered greatly with the writing schedule so I cannot tell you how blessed I feel that you remained faithful to the story.

I hope that you have all enjoyed this trip into the crazy AU I created for Van and Hitomi. : D

God bless,

rui

* * *

After feeding her baby, Hitomi held him tightly to her chest. With gentle fingers, she brushed back a few of the silver strands that fell across his forehead. Though she was truly happy studying her son's face and playing with his balled fists, her mind was a thunderous cloud of emotion.

If she wasn't hurting from the bottom of her ribs to the tips of her toes, Hitomi knew she would have stomped out of the room, found Van, twisted his ear, and _force_ the stubborn male goat to listen to what she had to say. Instead, she had time to plot, script, and fret over every likely outcome her overly excited mind could crop up.

Van had blatantly brushed her off when he left. Not a single syllable of joy about _finally _being together without the threat of murder lingering around or a simple smile at the fact that he was a _father_. Like any true mother, Hitomi felt her hackles raise the most at the thought of the man dismissing _her_ child.

Though she tried in earnest to keep herself from falling asleep after placing the baby into his nest of pillow and blankets, there was nothing to keep her from nodding off again.

The small squeaking sounds of an upset baby caused her to stir from her slumber hours later. The make-shift dwelling was bathed in darkness, only the torches staked outside in a few places illuminated small areas in a muted light. Sighing, she shrugged the loose fitting tunic off her shoulder and pulled her arm from the sleeve. Though her modesty hadn't been a concern for her while she was bringing the young life into the world, it was back with a vengeance since she never knew when a guard was going to stumble through the flaps. Easily retrieving her baby, she situated herself into a comfortable position for his feeding.

Smiling down at her son, Hitomi hummed a nameless tune as the young prince filled his stomach.

_You really need a name, little one_, she thought.

Years shredded from her spirit as she yelped in surprise as a warm hand touched her hip gently.

Jerking her head around, she stared at the owner of that hand with even _more_ disbelief.

"Van?" the queen questioned, wondering if she was still asleep or in the middle of a hallucination.

"Is he well?"

Hitomi's mouth was opened slightly as words dried up in her throat when he started to slowly rub his thumb along her skin. She nodded slowly, too dumbstruck to recall that she promised herself to give him a firm tongue lashing once he returned.

"H-he is just hungry," she explained, feeling the heat of a blush kiss her cheeks.

Even though Van had seen her without a stitch of clothing, obviously since they had a child, she still felt awkward being exposed to his eyes and especially to his touch. The dark red color of his iris seemed to glow with an inner light as he stared up at her through his thick, wild bangs.

He nodded his understanding, his thumb rubbing softly across her skin. It was the most intimate gesture he had ever shown her, whether he was aware of it or not, Hitomi knew.

Never had he reached out to her like he was now or shown such a familiar ease of a real couple.

The minutes stretched on silently, their breathing and the occasional crunch of the grass as someone passed by the only noises. When the child was full and resting back in his bed, Hitomi gave her attention back to her husband.

It was a day to night transformation. He had barely spared her a look or given her more than a handful of words earlier and here he lay next to her.

"Lay back down," Van insisted, closing his eyes, removing his hand from her hip, and relaxing against the comfort of the pillows and mat. He lay on his back, the arm furthest from her, tucked under his head, while the other rested on his stomach where the soft, thick blanket started, covering his lower half.

Her mind whirled in confusion as she slowly reclined with bumpy, jittery movements. Shyly, she stretched out beside him, cringing slightly at the flash of pain from her lower abdomen. They were close but not quite touching. She could easily feel the heat from his body, smell of wilderness on his skin, see the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, but she could only hear the throb of her heart.

Sleep wouldn't come to her any time soon if she didn't talk to him. If he simply left if she tried—_no_, if he wanted to avoid her, he wouldn't have taken up a spot _next_ to her. He was without a shirt and his sword, she had noted, was lying on the side furthest from her, it was a soft confidence of comfort he expressed wordlessly to her.

"Van?" she started in a hushed voice, not to wake the baby or shatter the precious image of him lying so peacefully next to her.

Van inwardly flinched at her soft voice. There was no way he could avoid the confrontation with her. He had tried. When he left earlier that evening he had been running, he knew. Swallowing all the emotion he denied himself since the moment he watched his palace being destroyed, Van opened his eyes to stare up blankly at the top of the pavilion.

"Ask," he whispered.

Hitomi's eyebrows knit together in confusion. Ask? Ask _what_? She blinked rapidly, as if it would clear her mind and not her eyes. Well, if he wanted her to ask, then she would.

"What do you mean?"

There was clear confusion in her voice, and for a heartbeat he felt like her words were derisive in nature. Turning his head from her, knowing her jade green eyes were watching him intently, he waited for the inevitable.

He had only wanted one more night with her, with the child so he could pretend. When he answered the impending questions, Hitomi would hate him, rebuke him, and leave him alone just like Serena had done years before. It did not matter that the words never passed his lips; Van knew what he felt toward his wife and knew that after all they had been through together and separately, his unspoken feelings weren't going to change. Biting down on the inside of his cheek, he refused to allow his eyes to even _think_ of tearing up. If she rejected him, he wouldn't bow down and break like he did last time. He was the King of a fallen country, one that desperately needed to be rebuilt from the rubble up. Van could throw himself into his duties and forget about the heartache this night would bring.

Soft, smooth, but stern fingertips touched his face, gently causing him to turn his eyes back to her. She was propped up on an elbow, blonde eyebrows trying to kiss in the middle of her forehead and a helplessly lost expression on her beautiful face.

"Van, what are you talking about?" Hitomi prodded, her eyes locking with his shadowed ruby ones. "What is it I'm supposed to ask about?"

Sighing, he slowly drew himself up into a sitting position, letting the blanket slide low on his waist as he brought one of his legs to his chest, an arm finding a spot to rest on top of the knee.

"About the _wings_," the man sibilated.

Understanding flooded Hitomi as she remembered her shock at the visage of her husband with unbelievably white wings protruding from his back in an elegant span of feathers and muscle. If it hadn't been for the pernicious circumstances, she was sure she would have been more surprised.

She followed his example and slowly rose to a sitting position, though her legs remained straight in front of her to reduce any possible chance of discomfort.

His entire frame was tense and the aura of foreboding radiated off of him as readily as his delicious heat. Puzzled, her eyes lit up as they widened with realization.

Van's apprehension, his wings, the past…it all collided into a blobbed and smeared picture in her mind.

"…_How can anyone love an abomination?"_ Serena's words on the island flicked the final stroke on the painting.

The princess had forsaken him after he either told her or _showed_ her his wings. Hitomi's heart clenched in her chest, anger and sadness slithering into it; anger at the other woman for hurting Van in such a way and sadness that he presupposed everyone would react with the same repulsion.

"Van…" she started, touching him lightly on the shoulder. He flinched away from her, causing her to pause in both action and speech.

Talking wouldn't work; she smiled lightly at his contracted muscles. Van wasn't someone who spoke with words but through actions. Scooting closer to his taunt frame, Hitomi firmly and gently placed her hands on either of his shoulders and leaned forward.

Van's eyes rounded as he felt her lips tenderly kiss each of his shoulder blades causing tears which had been beaten down to march back into position, and prepare to roll down his face at a moment's breath.

"You're wings are beautiful," she whispered delicately against his neck before she calmly removed her hands from his skin.

He turned his head slowly, affording her a view of his darkened profile but said nothing.

Hitomi felt powerless as she studied her husband's body language and shadowed face. Desperately she wanted to see _something _that might give her bruised heart the warmth of hope that he had understood her gesture.

Van didn't move except to breathe, his bangs covered his face like a curtain as his head tilted slightly forward. His lips were pressed tightly into an unreadable line, but he was aware of her as she watched him set his jaw firmly.

She opened her mouth to try to explain but the only noise she made was one of surprise in the back of her throat. In one heartbeat to the next, Hitomi found herself wide eyed, on her back with her husband doing sinful things to her mouth with his lips and teeth. Van took complete advantage of her surprise and worked his tongue into her mouth, exploring with abandon.

The woman closed her eyes once the amazement wore off enough for her to respond to his desperate need. Even with his unexpected show of passion, Van kept one hand buried in her hair as the other one touched her along her face, neck, down her arm until he reached her trembling hand and threaded their fingers together. His naked chest exuded a higher temperature as he leaned over her, resting his weight on his hip and upper arm.

When air demanded for them to separate, they did, breathless and panting. Her eyes were clouded with desire, even with her body just recovering her emotions and wants were undeterred. Releasing her hand, he lightly caressed the side of her face, his breath hitching when she darted her tongue out to wet her lips.

Perplexed, the woman repeated the action and found the same strange result on her tongue: the taste of salt. She brushed his bangs to the side, only catching a faint glimpse of wetness on his face before they fell back into place.

That would be _her_ little secret.

"I—you surprised me," she admitted, her face finally blushing lightly. Van remained bent over her, using his forearms to keep him hovering slightly above her body. He chuckled at her confession and lowered his face into the curve of her neck and shoulder.

He breathed her scent, so comforting and familiar. She would probably never understand the full gravity of what she had done, what she had freed his mind and spirit from when she kissed the places his wings grew from. Van smiled against her skin as he felt her shudder as he nipped her goose-bumped flesh lightly.

"I thought you would hate me," Hitomi continued, trying to keep her mind focused on what she had said to him and not about what he was currently doing to her.

"Should I?" He replied, his voice a deep rumble that was so distinctly male it made her toes curl.

"Aren't you upset about—what I said before?" she questioned, before adding, almost inaudibly, "about Armand and I being lovers."

The blonde woman had anticipated him pulling away, she feared him roaring with fury, and she had come to a disheartened peace that he was going to close his ears off to anything she had to say. What she wasn't prepared for was the low, throaty laugh.

"Oh, _that_," Van nipped at her ear, and was pleased to hear her suck in a sharp breath. "Don't," his tone darkening several shades with warning as he pulled away from her neck to rest his forehead on hers, "_Ever_ lie to me again."

"You knew?" She questioned not even attempting to keep the incredulity out of her tone.

His lips twitched into a soft smile, "Yes."

Though she was grateful, Hitomi was also desperately lost as to how he could have known.

As if sensing her thoughts, Van expanded his answer.

"I knew the moment you called out for me on the island." At her blank expression, the edges of his mouth kicked up. "Do you remember what I told you in the dragon's den?"

She blinked, lost.

"A female would _always_ call for her mate." Gently, he traced the side of her face, down to her neck, where he lightly curled his fingers around the back while he gingerly traced the curve of her jaw with his thumb. "You called for _me_. Armand was right beside you, but when you were in trouble; your instinct was to call for your mate—for _me_."

Under normal circumstances being compared to a giant, man-eating, venom spitting lizard wouldn't have been Hitomi's idea of romantic or sweet, but there was just something in Van's tone and words the allowed for it to be accepted as endearing. If only just this once.

* * *

Nariya watched through hooded eyes as the fire ate away at her sister's body. Even though she had been detained from performing a proper funeral pyre, she did what she could within the limitations.

Beside her sister's body was their lord's, Folken. She had shattered by the loss of her twin, but finding her beloved lord doubled over dead, her heart felt as if it had stopped beating altogether. This was a cruel joke. Fate spat in her face for being a soldier for the one who was trying to control it.

Stepping away from the fires, she knelt on one knee, a fist touching the ground to keep her balanced as she closed her eyes and paid the due respect to the dead.

A sardonic smile ghosted her lips as a vision of her silver haired sister smiling serenely as she leaned against Lord Folken. His eyes held warmth that had faded many years ago as he looked down at her sister.

At least they were together.

She slowly stood to her full height, bowed to the pyre once before turning on her heel, and walking away. To what, she didn't know. No one to follow, no one to curl up against, to laugh with…she was left alone. Taking in a deep breath through her nose, she exhaled through her mouth and set her jaw. She might not have a goal, a leader, or family but she would not meet Eriya and Lord Folken in the next world with her head hung low.

* * *

"I have no idea why I'm here," Armand stated flatly, dropping down in the only empty chair left at the table. To make sure that the three others in the tent understood his displeasure, he crossed his arms and jerked his head to the side with a scowl on his face.

Van raised an eyebrow at his knight and nursed another sip from his cup of tea. The herbiest had been more than happy to find the value of the strange mushrooms growing in the forest. In the correct amounts, it worked as an energy booster, something the dark haired king desperately needed.

"You're here because the queen is too weak to attend and we need to know every angle of this story," Van muttered around his cup.

"Too daunting a task for such a brave knight such as yourself?" Eries asked primly, "I was under the impression you rather liked hearing yourself talk."

"It's the only way to ensure an intelligent conversation," Armand replied, his eyes twitching marginally.

The princess narrowed her eyes and set her jaw. Van would reprimand the knight later, since he doubted the older man would listen since he was in a rather venomous staring contest with the woman.

"Please, we need to all return to our respective countries, let us make this as painless as possible," Allen sighed. "May we continue?"

Armand finally relented and focused his eyes over to the new Prince then shrugged his indifference. It had been a week since the surrender of Zaibach and the meeting of the three ruling families was a daily chore. The knight, for lack of any excuses or places to hide, was forced into a chair and told to rehash his side of what had occurred throughout the ten months of war.

Pieces fell into place, bringing to light and life the true and horrific genius of what Serena had been able to accomplish. Van, knowing he was leaving out the truth of who Stratego was, knew in his gut that there were details the others involved were also choosing to leave out or gloss over.

"Zaibach's empire will do what we can to restore things to the way prior to the war," Allen assured, as he had done the last seven days. "When I return to capital, I will allot a generous amount to fund the rebuilding to Fanelia's capital and palace."

The king had argued with the blonde for hours about the unnecessary aide, but Allen would not fold. After only seven long, stressful days and broken sleep nights, Van didn't have it in him to argue the point yet _again_.

"I will see to it that Freid is put to peace about the loss of their heir," Eries spoke softly, memories of her nephew flaring in her mind causing her heart to twist in pain. Shaking her head softly, she looked over to Van and Allen and in a stern, sterile voice, "I will inform King Aston that Zaibach is _not_ to be penalized, that those responsible for the deaths of my sister, her husband, and my nephew are in custody or have already fallen."

Van nodded, placing his cup down on the table top.

"Fanelia will be more than willing to back you up, Allen, should there be a revolt," the king vowed, the prince nodding his silent acceptance. Van turned his attention to Eries. "I hope our two countries will be able to restore the good relations we had before the tragedies, princess."

"That is a matter I wish to speak to you about and the reason I have requested Sir Decri's audience today."

Armand's ears perked up at his name, with doubt deep in his eyes, the man turned to his king. "I thought I was only supposed to be a narrator!"

Van held up a hand to silence the suddenly fretful knight. Even though he rarely exhibited self-control, Armand did possess it and knew that now, in front of two other royal houses, was not the time to start pitching a hissy fit.

"Sir Decri is the only son of the famed Sir Balgus Ganesha, was knighted at an extremely early age, was even appointed one of the highest positions of the country as being the royal family's head guard, and was also responsible for the safety of the Queen," Eries said all of this smoothly and without a single hint of awe or sarcasm.

Armand jerked his head to the side, watching the tent wall as if it was a scantily clad lady instead of worn grey canvas. His face was discolored with dark green and blue patches of bruises and did a fair job of hiding the rising blush on his cheeks. He always proclaimed to have no shame and to be as flamboyant as a flame but never had someone listed his duties as something to be respected and admired.

"Should I be flattered or frightened _you_ know so much," Armand murmured under his breath.

"Due to the extensive list of accomplishments, it makes him the ideal candidate for the position I believe needs to have a stronger figure head in it," Eries concluded, watching Van as he kept a tight rein on anything he might have been thinking.

Van wished to kick up his lips in a slight grin at the princess, but kept his expression blank. The truth was that Eries and he had already gone over her request and though it was with much regret, Van had conceded that Armand would be the best choice—as scary a thought as it seemed—for her proposed strengthening of the Asturia and Fanelia ties. She was just playing with the man for the sheer point of being able to, Armand would bow to his king's order, but it still amused Van to see the arrogant man squirm.

"And that would be?" Armand drawled out, one of his eyebrows ticking in annoyance.

"To be the new emissary of Fanelia in the Asturian court," the woman said slowly, as if talking to a dim witted child.

"No," the knight gave his clipped answer before shooting to his feet and limping as fast as he could out of the tent.

Eries blinked in surprise; she had thought he would object in a more flashy way, even grouse about having to be stuck in long, dry meetings of her country. The simple, concise conclusion of his opinion had been something she couldn't fathom.

Van stood swiftly to his feet, gave his apologies to the princess while assuring her of Armand's _future_ compliance, before a scowl deeply etched on his face and stormed after his errant servant.

"Sir DeCri!"

The knight immediately froze at his king's calling. Armand was able to make it a good distance before Van caught up to him. The brunette knew he was in for a rather brutal tongue lashing for all but spitting in the face of the princess's offer without a reason given.

He heard the hurried and angry footfalls of Van stop only a few feet from him. Gritting his teeth, Armand's entire body was tense, his hands balled into tight fists as he schooled his face into a blank expression. Turning on his heels, the knight bowed deeply before his king.

"Your majesty," Armand uttered respectfully, not standing from his bow.

"You _will_ go," Van's voice held no room for argument as he narrowed his eyes at the man. "I have _never_ been more—mortified by your behavior, _especially_ in front of other royalty. We are in no position to insult _any _country at the moment, DeCri."

Swallowing thickly, the knight stood to his full height while he stared at the feet of his King instead of his face.

"I did not intend my refusal to be seen as rude, my leaving perhaps, but I did not see the purpose of trying to let anyone down gently when I already knew I would refuse," Armand stated clearly.

"Why?" Van returned, "Why would _you_, of all people, refuse this promotion?"

_I don't deserve it_, his mind humbly whispered. While on the outside he decided to try a different approach.

"I will not hide, m'lord, from the pains rebuilding Fanelia will doubtlessly bring, nor will I refuse to stand by and guard those of the country. I do, however, refuse to be in a country so far removed from the devastation of war and be in a court that knows nothing of hardship while my King and fellow countrymen are made to do without simple and basic comforts."

Oh, he was _good_.

The black haired king studied his sworn soldier with a deep respect. The fierce loyalty of Balgus was evident in Armand and it brought both father and son honor and pride from and to the Fanel family.

"I've already given my word to Princess Eries that you would satisfy the position, Armand."

The brunette's shoulder sagged slightly, obviously disappointed in the absolute answer _not_ being what he wanted.

"Is this punishment, your highness?" Armand questioned softly. "Did I fail you? Do you believe the lies the queen felt necessary to tell you?"

Van sighed heavily. The king and knight had been over the particular insanity that had played out on the floating island. Armand was not above groveling to prove his sincerity of abstinence from the queen and any other female during the war. Not wanting to be in the know about _any_ of the man's personal life, Van had quickly dismissed the lies and explained he never believed them.

"This is not a punishment, Armand," Van assured, "I was actually quite surprised with the princess requested you by name to fill the spot in her court."

The knight's head shot up, eyes wide and mouth opened in disbelief. He snapped it shut, shock still playing over his features, as the gears started to turn in his mind.

_That_ was certainly interesting, Van noted. Apparently Armand was in the dark about the mark he had made on the princess in their brief introduction.

"May I at least know the name of the prince?" The man requested when he realized all other valid debating skills had been blown to the seven winds with Van's innocent remark.

"Tyr," Van replied, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth at the thought of his young son.

"That is a heavy name to live up to; I will enjoy hearing of his successes." Armand nodded thoughtfully, bowing again before numbly excusing himself and walking in the direction of his tent.

Van's eyebrows rose slowly up his forehead to see his normally sharp and collected knight bumble through the people. Perhaps the arrogant man wasn't as untouchable as he seemed, the king mused before turning on his heel and heading back to the disrupted meeting.

* * *

Merle stood straight, shoulders rolled back, hands on hips, and scowling at the workers who busied themselves with hammering, sawing, and other various building needs. Nodding once, she jumped off the emptied cart she'd been standing on to do a walk-through of the rest of the construction.

The town had been hit hard by the guymelefs all those months ago; many people had run from the capital and into the safety of the woods on that day. Merle had barely escaped the destruction of the palace with the fur on her tail, a handful of servants and officials hadn't been so lucky.

Climbing up the side of one of the finished homes, she perched on the roof, using a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun. When the townspeople had trickled back to see what there was to salvage, Merle had verbally fought for them to stay and rebuild the capital. Some scoffed, others shrugged, but the rest had risen to the challenge. Those people put all their effort into repairing and manipulating the doubtful to trust in the house of Fanel to return triumphant.

From what several travelers reported, the war was over and the King was alive and victorious. Zaibach had shown its true colors, tucked tail, and ran back to their borders. The neko smirked, she had always known Van would succeed and wouldn't he be proud to see those he fought to protect thriving.

However, there was _one_ catch. There was always a bad bit of news that weighed down the good. Sighing, the girl dropped to a cross-legged position and crossed her arms over her chest, a frown on her pretty face.

The section of the palace that received the most damage was the wing designated to the royal family. The King and Queen's set of rooms as well as all rooms, hallways, and lower levels had been demolished and burned. Heirlooms, possessions, and stone could be replaced but Merle did not look forward to bringing her lord the news that the Queen had not survived.

They had searched for days, shifting through ashes and rubble in an audacious hope they would find Hitomi alive. They hadn't.

Puffing out a breath to move the bangs in front of her eyes, Merle wondered why she always got stuck with the hard jobs. Van might not have said anything to anyone, but the neko _knew_. He cared for Hitomi. If he ever recognized or admitted to it, she wasn't sure. Van wasn't the most outspoken person with his emotions, especially after having his heart crushed under Serena's dainty, high heeled cloven hoof.

Uncrossing her arms, she leaned an elbow on one of her knees, tucked her hand under her chin, and stared off in the distance trying _not_ to think of Van's heart being broken _again_. She was, for all purposes, doing a horrible job of distracting herself, but the loud shouts and sudden flood of people did wonders to chase away the thought.

Climbing to her feet, she perked her ears up, trying to extend her hearing to find out what had gotten the town stirred up. Hiking an eyebrow, the cat girl noticed several of the people were pointing toward the forest road. Merle swung her attention toward the woods, squinting against the light to see several growing blobs heading their way.

Narrowing her eyes into thin slits, they popped open wide when she recognized the black haired male who was leading the caravan.

"_Lord Van_!" Merle yelled happily, before she quickly took a few leaps down to the street level and broke into a full run.

The King saw his sister barreling to him, on all fours no less, and let a full smile bloom over his face. With the distance that was between them, he was able to brace for her wind-knocking tackle and the bone crushing embrace that followed. There was something to be said for anyone who was able to stay upright in their saddle after a Merle hug.

"You're back! I knew you'd come back to us!" she exclaimed joyfully, snuggling her face further into his chest, her tail wrapping around his waist.

After a few attempts, Van was able to pull an arm free from her vice-like grip and petted her head affectionately.

"Yes," he answered as he switched his gaze from his adopted sister to the village and the people who were following her footsteps to embrace the army and the survivors they brought with them. "I'll always come back."

An icy finger of fear traced her spine as she pulled back to stare up at her King's face, a small frown on her face and regret etched into her eyes.

"Lord Van, I—I-," she swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to keep the tears that suddenly burned her eyes from falling as he looked down at her expectantly. "It's about—about Hitomi—I—_we_—"

Without waiting for her to continue he glanced over his shoulder to the small covered wagon that was flanked by several officers. The wistful smile on his face made the knife in her heart twist cruelly. When he turned back to the neko, the soft expression was still in place as if he, for once, didn't care who saw what he was feeling.

"Lord Van?" she questioned, now highly confused by the shift in the usually detached male.

"Go, see for yourself what is in the cart," he nodded toward the guarded wagon pointedly.

Eyebrows crashing together in curiosity, she slid off his horse and slowly drew closer to the wagon. The knights said nothing as she skirted between them, jumped on the coachman's seat and peered between the cracks of the canvas.

Not being able to see much of anything, she huffed, gripped a flap in each hand and yanked them apart.

Her jaw dropped.

There sat the thought-to-be-dead Queen, staring back at her inquisitively with a small, silver headed baby cradled in her arms.

"Wh—what—" Merle's voice worked fine, her ability to speak seemed to also be in working order, her brain, however was frozen dead in shock.

There was a soft, deep chuckle from behind her. Jerking her attention over her shoulder to where Van was standing, cross-armed and slightly smiling, she volleyed her focus from the woman and child to her beloved brother.

"I guess I lost the bet," he remarked absently as he joined the neko on the bench. The sounds of the townsfolk grew steadily in the distance. Van was sure they'd over take them within a few minutes, but ignored them for another few breaths, glad to introduce his son to his 'aunt' before the chaos of relief and rejoicing started up.

"Where'd you get _that_!" Merle squeaked, pointing to the bundle that was trying to grab for Hitomi's pink pendant.

"I—I guess you could say we, uh, _made_ him," Hitomi flicked her eyes from her husband who looked amused to Merle who looked mortified to her son who was gumming his tiny fist.

"_He_? _We_?" Was the world tilting? Did she fall asleep on that roof and the sun was now eating through to her brain?

"Merle, I'd like you to meet the Prince of Fanelia, Tyr Gaou Fanel."

"I need to sit down," the cat girl muttered, completely oblivious to the fact that she was already sitting.

Van locked eyes with his wife and could only smile.


End file.
